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00022092806 


'  So  nice ! "  she  whispered  when  the  dolls  were  laid  beside  her.  —  Frontispiece. 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 


BY 


LOUISA  M.  ALCOTT 

AUTHOR    OF    "  LITTLE    WOMEN,"     "  LITTLE     MEN 
"PANSIES   AND    WATER-LILIES,"   ETC. 


JIlustratEtJ 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND   COMPANY 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873, 

By  Louisa  M.  Alcott, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  V/ashington. 

Copyright,  1882, 
Br  Louisa  M.  Alcott. 

Copyright,  1901,  1902, 
By  John  S.  P.  Alcott. 


^rtntera 
8.  J.  Pabkhill  &  Co.,  Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


THE  DOLLS'   JOURNEY  FROM 
MINNESOTA  TO  MAINE 

Mk.  Plum  lived  in  St.  Paul,  Minnesota,  U.  S.  A. 
There  were  six  little  Plums,  all  girls,  varying  in 
ages  from  fourteen  to  seven,  and  named  Kate, 
Lucy,  Susy,  Lizzie,  Marjory,  and  Maggie.  There 
was  no  mamma,  but  Mrs.  Gibbs,  the  housekeeper, 
was  a  kind  old  soul,  and  papa  did  everything  he 
could  to  make  the  small  daughters  good  and 
happy. 

One  stormy  Saturday  afternoon  the  children 
were  all  together  in  the  school-room,  and  papa 
busy  at  his  desk  in  the  library,  with  the  door 
open  because  he  hked  to  hear  the  pleasant  voices 
and  catch  glimpses  of  the  droll  plays  that  went 
on  there. 

Kate  lay  on  the  sofa  reading  "  The  Daisy 
Chain "  for  the  fourth  time.  Susy,  Lucy,  and 
Lizzie  were  having  a  select  tea  party  in  their  own 
recess,  the  entrance  to  which  was  barricaded  with 
chairs  to  keep  out  the  "  babies,"  as  they  called 
1 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 


the  little  ones,  who  were  much  offended  at  being 
excluded  and  sat  up  ia  the  cushioned  window- 
seat  pensively  watching  the  rain. 

"  If  it  had  only  waited  till  to-morrow  we  should 
have  had  time  for  our  journey  ;  now  we  can't  go 
till  next  Saturday.  Flora  is  so  disappointed  she 
would  cry  if  I  had  not  taught  her  to  behave," 
said  Maggie  with  a  sigh,  as  she  surveyed  the  doll 
on  her  knee  in  its  new  summer  suit. 

"  So  is  Dora.  Just  see  how  sweet  she  looks 
with  her  hat  and  cape  on  and  her  travelling-bag 
all  ready.  Could  n't  we  play  travel  in  the  house  ? 
It  is  such  a  pity  to  wait  when  the  children  are  in 
such  a  hurry  to  go,"  answered  Marjory,  settling 
the  tiny  bag  that  held  Dora's  night-cap  and  gown 
as  well  as  the  morsels  of  cake  that  were  to  serve 
for  her  lunch. 

"  No,"  said  Maggie  decidedly,  "  we  can't  do  it, 
because  there  is  no  room  for  carriages,  and  boats, 
and  railroads,  and  hotels,  and  accidents.  It  is  a 
long  journey  from  Minnesota  to  Maine,  and  we 
could  n't  get  it  all  into  one  room  I  'm  sure." 

"I  don't  think  papa  would  mind  our  coming 
into  the  library,  if  we  did  n't  ring  the  car  bells 
very  loud  or  scream  much  when  the  accidents 
happen,"  said  Marjory,  who  hated  to  give  up  the 
plan  they  had  been  cherishing  all  the  week. 


THE  DOLLS'   JOURNEY 


"  What  is  it,  little  ones  ?  Come  and  tell  me 
what  is  the  matter,"  called  Mr.  Plum,  hearing  his 
name  and  the  magic  word  "  railroad,"  for  he  was 
the  president  of  one  and  had  his  hands  full  just 
then. 

Down  jumped  the  little  girls  and  ran  to  perch 
on  either  arm  of  his  chair,  pouring  out  their  small 
tribulations  as  freely  as  if  he  had  been  the  most 
sympathizing  of  mothers. 

"We  planned  to  take  a  long,  long  journey 
roimd  the  garden  with  our  dolls  to-day,  and  play 
go  to  Maine  and  see  Aunt  Maria.  You  know  she 
asked  us,  and  we  looked  out  the  way  on  the  map 
and  got  all  ready,  and  now  it  rains  and  we  are 
dreadfully  disappointed,"  said  Maggie,  while  Mar- 
jory sighed  as  she  looked  at  the  red  D.  worked  on 
the  inch  square  travelling-bag. 

"  As  you  can't  go,  why  not  send  the  dolls  to 
make  aunty  a  visit,  and  she  will  send  them  back 
when  they  get  homesick,"  proposed  Mr.  Plum, 
smiling,  as  if  a  sudden  idea  had  popped  into  his 
head. 

"  Eeally  ? "  cried  Maggie. 

"  How  could  we  ? "  asked  Marjory. 

"They  could  go  and  come  by  mail,  and  tell 
you  all  about  their  adventures  when  they  got 
back,"  said  papa. 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 


Both  children  were  speechless  for  a  moment, 
then  as  the  full  splendor  of  this  proposition 
dawned  upon  them  they  clapped  their  hands, 
crying  eagerly : 

"  We  will !  we  will !     Let 's  do  it  at  once." 

"  What  ?  where  ?  who  ? "  asked  Susy,  Lucy,  and 
Lizzie,  forgetting  their  tea  party  to  run  and  see 
what  was  going  on. 

They  were  told;  and  in  their  turn  exclaimed  so 
loudly  that  Kate  came  to  join  in  the  fun. 

After  a  great  deal  of  talking  and  laughing,  the 
dolls  were  prepared  for  the  long  journey.  They 
were  common  wooden-headed  dollies,  a  hand  long, 
with  stuffed  bodies  and  stout  legs  ornamented 
with  very  small  feet  in  red  and  blue  boots.  Dora 
was  a  blonde  and  Flora  a  brunette,  otherwise  they 
were  just  alike  and  nearly  new.  Usually  when 
people  go  travelling  they  put  on  their  hats  and 
cloaks,  but  these  pilgrims,  by  papa's  advice,  left 
all  encumbrances  behind  them,  for  they  were  to 
travel  in  a  peculiar  way,  and  blue  gingham  dresses 
were  chosen  for  the  expedition. 

"  It  is  possible  that  they  may  never  come  back. 
Accidents  will  happen,  you  know.  Are  you  pre- 
pared for  that  ? "  asked  Mr.  Plum,  pausing  with 
the  brown  paper  spread  out  before  him. 

"  I  am,"  answered  Maggie  firmly,  as  she  laid 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 


Flora  on  the  table,  her  black  eyes  staring  as  if 
rather  alarmed  at  this  sudden  start. 

Marjory  hesitated  a  moment,  clasping  Dora  to 
her  bosom  with  a  face  full  of  maternal  anxiety. 
But  Susy,  Lucy  and  Lizzie  cried :  "  Let  her  go,  do 
let  her  go,  and  if  she  is  lost  papa  will  give  you  a 
new  doll." 

"  Good-by,  my  darling  dear.  Have  a  splendid 
time,  and  be  sure  you  come  back  to  me,"  whis- 
pered Marjory,  with  a  tender  farewell  kiss  as  she 
gave  up  her  child. 

All  stood  watching  silently  while  papa  tied  the 
dolls  back  to  back  with  the  ribbon  Kate  pulled 
from  her  neck,  then  folded  them  carefully  in 
strong  brown  paper,  leaving  their  heads  out  that 
they  might  see  the  world  as  they  went  along. 
Being  carefully  fastened  up  with  several  turns  of 
cord,  Mr.  Plum  directed  the  precious  parcel  to 
"  Miss  Maria  Plum,  Portland,  Maine.  With  care." 
Then  it  was  weighed,  stamped,  and  pronounced 
ready  for  the  post. 

"  I  shall  write  and  tell  aunty  they  are  coming, 
because  she  will  want  to  be  prepared  for  such  dis- 
tinguished visitors,"  said  papa,  taking  up  his  pen 
with  a  glance  at  the  six  excited  little  faces  round 
him. 

Silence  reigned  while  the  letter  was  written, 


6  THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 

and  as  he  sealed  it  up,  Mr.  Plum  said  solemnly, 
with  his  hand  on  the  parcel : 

"  For  the  last  time,  shall  they  go  ? " 

"  Yes ! "  answered  the  Spartan  mothers  with 
one  voice,  while  the  other  sisters  danced  round 
them,  and  Kate  patted  the  curly  heads  approv- 
ingly. 

"  Going,  going,  gone ! "  answered  papa  as  he 
whisked  on  his  coat  and  hat,  and  slammed  the 
door  behind  him. 

The  children  clustered  at  the  window  to  see 
him  set  out  on  this  momentous  errand,  and  he 
often  looked  back  waving  his  umbrella  at  them, 
till  he  vanished  round  the  corner,  with  a  re-assur- 
ing pat  on  the  pocket  out  of  which  dear  Do  and 
Flo  popped  their  heads  for  a  last  look  at  their 
sweet  home. 

"  Now,  let  us  take  out  poor  old  Lucinda  and 
Eose  Augusta  to  play  with.  I  know  their  feel- 
ings were  hurt  at  our  leaving  them  for  the  new 
dolls,"  said  Maggie,  rummaging  in  the  baby-house, 
whither  Marjory  soon  followed  her  to  reinstate 
the  old  darlings  in  the  place  of  the  departed  new 
ones. 

"  Safely  off, "  reported  Mr.  Plum,  when  he  came 
in  to  tea,  "  and  we  may  expect  to  hear  from  them 
in  a  week  or  two.     Parcels  go  more  slowly  than 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 


letters,  and  this  is  aunty's  busy  season,  so  wait 
patiently  and  see  what  will  happen." 

"  We  will,"  said  the  little  girls ;  and  they  did, 
but  week  after  week  went  by  and  nothing  was 
heard  of  the  wanderers. 

We,  however,  can  follow  them  and  learn  much 
that  their  anxious  mothers  never  knew. 

As  soon  as  Flora  and  Dora  recovered  from  the 
bewilderment  occasioned  by  the  confusion  of  the 
post  ofi&ce,  they  found  themselves  in  one  of  the 
many  leathern  mail  bags  rumbling  Eastward.  As 
it  was  perfectly  dark  they  could  not  see  their 
companions,  so  listened  to  the  whispering  and 
rustling  that  went  on  about  them.  The  news- 
papers all  talked  politics,  and  some  of  them  used 
such  bad  language  that  the  dolls  would  have 
covered  their  ears,  if  their  hands  had  not  been 
tied  down.  The  letters  were  better  behaved  and 
more  interesting,  for  they  told  one  another  the 
news  they  carried,  because  nothing  is  private  in 
America,  and  even  gummed  envelopes  cannot 
keep  gossip  from  leaking  out. 

"It  is  very  interesting,  but  I  should  enjoy  it 
more  if  I  was  not  grinding  my  nose  against  the 
rough  side  of  this  leather  bag,"  whispered  Dora, 
who  lay  undermost  just  then. 

"  So  should  I,  if  a  heavy  book  was  not  pinching 


8  THE  DOLLS'   JOURNEY 

my  toes.  I  've  tried  to  kick  it  away,  but  it  won't 
stir,  and  keeps  droning  on  about  reports  and 
tariffs  and  such  dull  things,"  answered  Flora,  with 
a  groan. 

"  Do  you  like  travelling  ? "  asked  Dora,  pres- 
ently, when  the  letters  and  papers  fell  asleep, 
lulled  by  the  motion  of  the  cars. 

"  Not  yet,  but  I  shall  when  I  can  look  about 
me.  This  bundle  near  by  says  the  mails  are  often 
sorted  in  the  cars,  and  in  that  way  we  shall  see 
something  of  the  world,  I  hope,"  answered  Flora, 
cheering  up,  for,  like  her  mamma,  she  was  of  an 
enquiring  turn. 

The  dolls  took  a  nap  of  some  hours,  and  were 
roused  by  a  general  tumbling  out  on  a  long  shelf, 
where  many  other  parcels  lay,  and  lively  men 
sent  letters  and  papers  flying  here  and  there  as  if 
a  whirlwind  was  blowing.  A  long  box  lay  beside 
the  dolls  who  stood  nearly  erect  leaning  against  a 
pile  of  papers.  Several  holes  were  cut  in  the  lid, 
and  out  of  one  of  them  was  thrust  a  little  black 
nose,  as  if  trying  to  get  air. 

"  Dear  me  !  what  can  be  in  it  ? "  said  Flora,  who 
was  nearest. 

"  I  'm  a  poor  little  alligator,  going  to  a  boy  in 
Chicago,  if  you  please,  and  I  want  my  mother," 
sobbed  a  voice  from  the  box,  and  there  was  a  rap 
on  the  lid  as  of  an  agitated  tail. 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY  9 

"  Mercy  on  us !  I  hope  we  shall  not  have  to 
travel  with  the  monster,"  whispered  Dora,  trying 
to  see  over  her  shoulder. 

"  I  'm  not  afraid.  He  can't  be  very  dreadful,  for 
the  box  is  not  any  longer  than  we  are.  Natural 
history  is  very  useful ;  I  've  heard  mamma  say  so, 
and  I  shall  talk  with  him  while  we  rest  here," 
answered  Flo,  nodding  toward  the  eye  which  now 
took  the  place  of  the  nose. 

So  the  little  alligator  told  her  something  of  his 
home  on  the  banks  of  a  great  river,  where  he  was 
just  learning  to  play  happily  with  his  brothers 
and  sisters,  when  he  was  caught  and  sent  away 
to  pine  in  captivity. 

The  dolls  comforted  him  as  well  as  they  could, 
and  a  pair  of  baby's  shoes  travelling  in  an  en- 
velope sympathized  with  him,  while  a  shabby 
bundle  directed  to  "  Michael  Dolan,  at  Mrs.  Judy 
Quin's,  next  door  to  Mr.  Pat  Murphy,  Boston, 
Korth  Street,"  told  them  to  "  Whisht  and  slape 
quite  till  they  came  forninst  the  place." 

"  Such  low  people  !  "  whispered  Do  to  Flo,  and 
both  stood  primly  silent  till  they  were  tumbled 
into  another  mail  bag,  and  went  rattling  on  again 
with  a  new  set  of  companions. 

"  I  hope  that  poor  baby  will  go  safely  and  the 
boy  be  good  to  him,"  said   Flora,  for  the  little 


10  THE  DOLLS'   JOURNEY 

alligator  went  with  the  live  stock  in  some  other 
way. 

"  Thank  goodness  he  did  n't  go  with  us  !  I 
shall  dream  about  that  black  nose  and  winking 
eye,  I  'm  sure.  The  dangers  of  travelling  are 
great,  but  we  are  safe  and  comfortable  now,  I 
think,"  and  Dora  settled  down  in  a  cosy  corner 
of  the  bag,  wondering  when  they  should  reach 
Chicago. 

"  I  like  adventures  and  hope  we  shall  have 
some,"  answered  Flora,  briskly,  little  dreaming 
how  soon  her  wish  was  to  be  granted. 

A  few  hours  later  there  came  a  bump,  a  crash, 
a  cry,  and  then  all  the  mail  bags  rolled  one  over 
the  other  with  the  car  down  an  embankment  into 
a  river. 

"  Now  we  are  dead  ! "  shrieked  the  poor  dolls, 
clinging  together  as  they  heard  the  splash  of 
water,  the  shouting  of  men,  the  splintering  of 
wood,  and  the  hiss  of  steam. 

"Don't  be  frightened,  ladies,  mail  bags  are 
always  looked  after,"  said  a  large  envelope  with 
an  official  seal  and  the  name  of  a  Senator  on  it. 

"  Any  bones  broken,  dear  madam  ? "  asked  a 
jaunty  pink  letter,  with  a  scent  of  musk  about  it, 
evidently  a  love-letter. 

"  I  think  one  foot  is  hurt,  and  my  clothes  are 
dripping,"  sighed  Dora,  faintly. 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY  11 

"  "Water  won't  hurt  calico,"  called  out  a  maga- 
zine full  of  fashion  plates,  adding  dolefully,  as  its 
gay  colors  began  to  run,  "  I  shall  be  in  a  nice 
mess  if  I  ever  get  out  of  this.  People  will  wear 
odd  fashions  if  they  follow  me  this  time." 

"Hope  they  will  telegraph  news  of  this  acci- 
dent in  time  for  the  evening  papers,"  said  a  dingy 
sheet  called  the  "  Barahoo  Thunderbolt,"  as  it  lay 
atop  of  the  heap  in  its  yellow  wrapper. 

"  Be  calm,  my  friends,  and  wait  with  fortitude 
for  death  or  deliverance,  as  I  do."  With  which 
philosophic  remark  "  The  St.  Louis  Cosmos  "  folded 
the  pages  which  for  the  first  time  since  the  paper 
was  started,  were  not  dry. 

Here  the  water  rose  over  the  topmost  letter  and 
a  moist  silence  prevailed  till  a  sudden  jerk  fished 
up  the  bag,  and  before  the  dolls  could  recover 
their  wits  they  were  spread  out  on  the  floor  of 
a  mail  car  to  dry,  while  several  busy  men  sorted 
and  saved  such  papers  and  letters  as  still  held 
together. 

"  Now  we  shall  see  something,"  said  Flora,  feel- 
ing the  warm  air  blow  over  her  as  they  spun 
along,  for  a  slight  accident  like  this  did  not  delay 
the  energetic  Westerners  a  moment  longer  than 
was  absolutely  necessary. 

"  I  can't  see  you,  dear,  but  I  hope   you  look 


12  THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 

better  than  I  do,  for  the  yellow  of  my  hair  has 
washed  into  my  eyes,  and  the  red  of  my  cheeks 
is  quite  gone,  I  'm  sure,"  answered  Dora,  as  her 
wet  dress  flopped  in  the  breeze  and  the  broken 
foot  sticking  up  showed  her  that  her  blue  boots 
were  ruined. 

"  I  don't  care  a  bit  how  I  look.  It 's  great  fun 
now  we  are  safe.  Pop  up  your  head  and  see  the 
wide  prairie  flying  past.  I  do  hope  that  poor 
baby  got  away  and  swam  home  to  his  mother. 
The  upset  into  the  river  was  quite  to  his  taste,  I 
fancy,"  said  Flora,  who  was  much  excited  by  her 
adventure  and  eager  for  more. 

Presently  one  of  the  men  set  the  dolls  up  in 
the  corner  of  a  window  to  dry,  and  there  they 
stood  viewing  the  fine  landscape  with  one  eye 
while  the  other  watched  the  scene  of  devastation 
within.  Everything  was  in  great  confusion  after 
the  accident,  so  it  is  not  strange  that  the  dolls 
were  not  missed  when  they  slowly  slid  lower  and 
lower  till  a  sudden  lurch  of  the  car  sent  them 
out  of  the  window  to  roll  into  a  green  field  where 
cows  were  feeding  and  children  picking  straw- 
berries. 

"  This  is  the  end  of  us  !  Here  we  shall  lie  and 
mould  forgotten  by  everybody,"  said  Dora,  who 
always  took  a  tragical  view  of  things. 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY  V6 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  I  see  cows  eating  toward 
us,  and  they  may  give  us  a  lift.  I  've  heard  of 
their  tossing  people  up,  though  I  don't  know  just 
how  it's  done..  If  they  don't,  we  are  in  the  path 
and  some  of  those  children  are  sure  to  find  us," 
answered  Flora  cheerfully,  though  she  stood  on 
her  head  with  a  bunch  of  burrs  pricking  her  nose. 

She  was  right.  A  bright-eyed  little  German 
girl  presently  came  trotting  along  the  path  with 
a  great  basket  full  of  berries  on  her  head  arranged 
in  pretty  pottles  ready  for  the  market.  Seeing 
the  red  cow  sniffing  at  a  brown  paper  parcel  she 
drove  her  away,  picked  it  up,  and  peeped  in  at 
the  open  end. 

The  sight  of  two  dolls  in  such  a  place  made  her 
feel  as  if  fairies  had  dropped  them  there  for  her. 
She  could  not  read  the  direction,  and  hurried 
home  to  show  her  treasure  to  her  brothers  and 
sisters  of  whom  there  were  eight. 

"  What  will  become  of  us  now ! "  exclaimed 
Dora,  as  eager  hands  slipped  them  out  of  the 
wrapper  and  smoothed  their  damp  skirts  in  a 
room  that  seemed  swarming  with  boys  and  girls 
of  all  sizes. 

"  Don't  worry,  we  shall  get  on  nicely,  I  'm 
sure,  and  learn  German  of  these  young  persons. 
It  is  a  great  relief  to  be  able  to  stretch  one's 


14  THE   DOLLS'   JOURNEY 

limbs,  and  stand  up,  is  n't  it  ? "  answered  Flora, 
undismayed  by  anything  that  had  happened  as 
yet. 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  love  you,  but  T  am  tired  of  being 
tied  to  you  all  day.  I  hope  we  shall  live  through 
this  noise  and  get  a  little  rest,  but  I  give  up  the 
idea  of  ever  seeing  Portland,"  answered  Dora, 
staring  with  all  her  blue  eyes  at  the  display  of 
musical  instruments  about  the  room,  and  longing 
to  stop  her  ears,  for  several  of  the  children  were 
playing  on  the  violin,  flute,  horn  or  harp.  They 
were  street  musicians,  and  even  the  baby  seemed 
to  be  getting  ready  to  take  part  in  the  concert, 
for  he  sat  on  the  floor  beside  an  immense  bass 
horn  taller  than  himself,  with  his  rosy  lips  at  the 
mouth-piece  and  his  cheeks  puffed  out  in  vain 
attempts  to  make  a  "  boom  !  boom ! "  as  brother 
Fritz  did. 

Flora  was  delighted,  and  gave  skips  on  her  red 
boots  in  time  to  the  lively  tooting  of  the  boys, 
while  the  girls  gazed  at  the  lovely  dolls  and  jab- 
bered away  with  their  yellow  braids  quivering 
with  excitement. 

The  wrapper  was  laid  aside  till  a  neighbor  who 
read  English  came  in  to  translate  it.  Meantime 
they  enjoyed  the  new  toys  immensely,  and  even 
despondent  Dora  was  cheered  up  by  the  admira- 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY  15 

tion  she  received ;  while  they  in  their  turn  were 
deeply  interested  in  the  pretty  dolls'  furniture 
some  of  the  children  made. 

Beds,  tables,  and  chairs  covered  the  long  bench, 
and  round  it  sat  the  neat-handed  little  maidens 
gluing,  tacking  and  trimming,  while  they  sang 
and  chatted  at  their  work  as  busy  and  happy  as 
a  hive  of  bees. 

All  day  the  boys  went  about  the  streets  play- 
ing, and  in  the  evening  trooped  off  to  the  beer 
gardens  to  play  again,  for  they  lived  in  Chicago, 
and  the  dolls  had  got  so  far  on  their  way  to  Aunt 
Maria,  as  they  soon  discovered. 

For  nearly  two  months  they  lived  happily  with 
Minna,  Gretchen  and  Nanerl,  then  they  set  out 
on  their  travels  again,  and  this  was  the  way  it 
happened.  A  little  girl  came  to  order  a  set  of 
furniture  for  her  new  baby-house,  and  seeing  two 
shabby  dolls  reposing  in  a  fine  bed  she  asked 
about  them.  Her  mamma  spoke  German  so 
Minna  told  how  they  were  found,  and  showed  the 
old  wrapper,  saying  that  they  always  meant  to 
send  the  dolls  on  their  way  but  grew  so  fond  of 
them  they  kept  putting  it  off. 

"  I  am  going  as  far  as  New  York  very  soon  and 
will  take  them  along  if  you  like,  for  I  think  little 
Miss  Maria  Plum  must  have  been  expecting  hei 


16  THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 

dolls  all  this  time.  Shall  I  ? "  asked  the  mamma, 
as  she  read  the  address  and  saw  the  dash  under 
"  With  care,"  as  if  the  dollies  were  of  great  im- 
portance to  some  one. 

"  Ja,  ja,"  answered  Minna,  glad  to  oblige  a  lady 
who  bought  two  whole  sets  of  their  best  furniture 
and  paid  for  it  at  once. 

So  again  the  dolls  were  put  in  their  brown 
paper  cover  and  sent  away  with  farewell  kisses. 

"  This  now  is  genteel  and  just  suits  me,"  said 
Dora,  as  they  drove  along  with  little  Clara  to  the 
handsome  house  where  she  was  staying. 

"  I  have  a  feeling  that  she  is  a  spoilt  child,  and 
we  shall  not  be  as  happy  with  her  as  with  the 
dear  Poppleheimers.  We  shall  see,"  answered 
Flora,  wisely,  for  Clara  had  soon  tossed  the  dolls 
into  a  corner  and  was  fretting  because  mamma 
would  not  buy  her  the  big  horn  to  blow  on. 

The  party  started  for  New  York  in  a  day  or 
two,  and  to  the  delight  of  Flo  and  Do,  they  were 
left  out  of  the  trunks  for  Clara  to  play  with  on 
the  way,  her  own  waxen  Blanche  Marie  Annabel 
being  too  delicate  to  be  used. 

"  Oh,  my  patience,  this  is  worse  than  tumbling 
about  in  a  mail-bag,"  groaned  Dora,  after  hours  of 
great  suffering,  for  Clara  treated  the  poor  dolls  as 
if  they  had  no  feeling. 


THE  DOLLS'   JOURNEY  17 

She  amused  herself  with  knocking  their  heads 
together,  shutting  them  in  the  window  with  their 
poor  legs  hanging  out,  swinging  them  by  one  arm, 
and  drawing  lines  with  a  pencil  all  over  their  faces 
till  they  looked  as  if  tattooed  by  savages.  Even 
brave  Flora  was  worn  out  and  longed  for  rest, 
finding  her  only  comfort  in  saying,  "  I  told  you 
so,"  when  Clara  banged  them  about,  or  dropped 
them  on  the  dusty  floor  to  be  trampled  on  by 
passing  feet. 

There  they  were  left,  and  would  have  been 
swept  away  if  a  little  dog  had  not  found  them  as 
the  passengers  were  leaving  the  car  and  carried 
them  after  his  master,  trotting  soberly  along  with 
the  bundle  in  his  mouth,  for  fortunately  Clara  had 
put  them  into  the  paper  before  she  left  them, 
so  they  were  still  together  in  the  trials  of  the 
journey. 

"  Hullo,  Jip,  what  have  you  got  ? "  asked  the 
young  man  as  the  little  dog  jumped  up  on  the 
carriage  seat  and  laid  his  load  on  his  master's 
knee,  panting  and  wagging  his  tail  as  if  he  had 
done  something  to  be  praised  for. 

"  Dolls,  I  declare !  What  can  a  bachelor  do 
with  the  poor  things  ?  Wonder  who  Maria  Plum 
is  ?  Midge  will  like  a  look  at  them  before  we 
send   them   along ; "  and  into  the  young   man's 


18  THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 

pocket  they  went,  trembling  with  fear  of  the 
dog,  but  very  grateful  for  being  rescued  from 
destruction. 

Jip  kept  his  eye  on  them,  and  gave  an  occa- 
sional poke  with  his  cold  nose  to  be  sure  they 
were  there  as  they  drove  through  the  bustling 
streets  of  New  York  to  a  great  house  with  an  in- 
scription over  the  door. 

"I  do  hope  Midge  will  be  a  nicer  girl  than 
Flora.  Children  ought  to  be  taught  to  be  kind 
to  dumb  dolls  as  well  as  dumb  animals,"  said 
Dora,  as  the  young  man  ran  up  the  steps  and 
hurried  along  a  wide  hall. 

"I  almost  wish  we  were  at  home  with  our 
own  kind  little  mothers,"  began  Flo,  for  even  her 
spirits  were  depressed  by  bad  treatment,  but  just 
then  a  door  opened  and  she  cried  out  in  amaze- 
ment, "  Bless  my  heart,  this  man  has  more  chil- 
dren than  even  Mr.  Poppleheimer  ! " 

She  might  well  think  so,  for  all  down  both 
sides  of  the  long  room  stood  little  white  beds  with 
a  small  pale  face  on  every  pillow.  All  the  eyes 
that  were  opened  brightened  when  Jip  and  his 
master  came  in,  and  several  thin  hands  were  out- 
stretched to  meet  them. 

"  I  've  been  good.  Doctor,  let  me  pat  him  first," 
cried  one  childish  voice. 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY  19 

"  Did  you  bring  me  a  flower,  please  ? "  asked 
another  feeble  one. 

"  I  know  he 's  got  something  nice  for  us,  I  see  a 
bundle  in  his  pocket,"  and  a  little  fellow  who  sat 
up  among  his  pillows  gave  a  joyful  cough  as  he 
could  not  shout. 

"Two  dollies  for  Midge  to  play  with.  Jip 
found  them,  but  I  think  the  little  girl  they  are 
going  to  will  lend  them  for  a  few  days.  We 
shall  not  need  them  longer,  I  'm  afraid,"  added  the 
young  man  to  a  rosy-faced  nurse  who  came  along 
with  a  bottle  in  her  hand. 

"  Dear  no,  the  poor  child  is  very  low  to-day. 
But  she  will  love  to  look  at  the  babies  if  she  is  n't 
strong  enough  to  hold  'em,"  said  the  woman,  lead- 
ing the  way  to  a  corner  where  the  palest  of  all  the 
pale  faces  lay  smiling  on  the  pillow,  and  the  thin- 
nest of  the  thin  hands  were  feebly  put  up  to  greet 
the  Doctor. 

"  So  nice  ! "  she  whispered  when  the  dolls  were 
laid  beside  her,  while  Jip  proudly  beat  his  tail  on 
the  floor  to  let  her  know  that  she  owed  the  wel- 
come gift  to  him. 

For  an  hour  Flo  and  Do  lay  on  the  arm  of  poor 
Midge,  who  never  moved  except  to  touch  them 
now  and  then  with  a  tender  little  finger,  or  to  kiss 
them  softly,  saying,  "  Dear  babies,  it  is  very  nice 


20  THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 

not  to  be  all  alone.  Are  you  comfy,  darlings  ? " 
till  she  fell  asleep,  still  smiling. 

"  Sister,  do  you  think  this  can  be  the  Heaven  we 
hear  people  talk  about  ?  It  is  so  still  and  white, 
and  maybe  these  children  are  angels,"  whispered 
Dora,  looking  at  the  sweet  face  turned  toward  her 
with  the  long  lashes  lying  on  the  colorless  cheek, 
and  the  arms  outstretched  like  wings. 

"  No,  dear,  it  is  a  hospital,  I  heard  that  man  say 
so,  and  those  are  sick  children  come  to  be  cured. 
It  is  a  sweet  place,  I  think,  and  this  child  much 
nicer  than  that  horrid  Clara,"  answered  Flo,  who 
was  quicker  to  hear,  see  and  understand  what 
went  on  than  Dora. 

"  I  love  to  lie  here  safe  and  warm,  but  there 
does  n't  seem  to  be  much  breath  to  rock  me,"  said 
Do,  who  lay  nearest  the  little  bosom  that  very 
slowly  rose  and  fell  with  the  feeble  flutter  of  the 
heart  below. 

"Hush,  we  may  disturb  her,"  and  lively  Flo 
controlled  her  curiosity,  contenting  herself  with 
looking  at  the  other  children  and  listening  to  their 
quiet  voices,  for  pain  seemed  to  have  hushed 
them  all. 

For  a  week  the  dolls  lay  in  Midge's  bed,  and 
though  their  breasts  were  full  of  sawdust,  and 
their  heads  were  only  wood,  the  sweet  patience  of 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY  21 

the  little  creature  seemed  to  waken  something 
like  a  heart  in  them,  and  set  them  thinking,  for 
dolls  don't  live  in  vain,  I  am  firmly  persuaded. 

All  day  she  tended  them  till  the  small  hands 
could  no  longer  hold  them,  and  through  the 
weary  nights  she  tried  to  murmur  bits  of  lullabies 
lest  the  dollies  would  not  be  able  to  sleep  because 
of  the  crying  or  the  moans  some  of  the  poor 
babies  could  not  repress.  She  often  sent  one  or 
the  other  to  cheer  up  some  little  neighbor,  and  in 
this  way  Do  and  Flo  became  small  sisters  of  char- 
ity, welcomed  eagerly,  reluctantly  returned,  and 
loved  by  all,  although  they  never  uttered  a  word 
and  their  dingy  faces  could  not  express  the  emo- 
tion that  stirred  their  sawdust  bosoms. 

When  Saturday  night  came  they  were  laid  in 
their  usual  place  on  Midge's  arm.  She  was  too 
weak  to  kiss  them  now,  and  nurse  laid  their  bat- 
tered cheeks  against  the  lips  that  whispered 
faintly,  "  Be  sure  you  send  'em  to  the  little  girl, 
and  tell  her  —  tell  her  —  all  about  it."  Then  she 
turned  her  cheek  to  the  pillow  with  a  little  sigh, 
and  lay  so  still  the  dolls  thought  she  had  gone  to 
sleep. 

She  had,  but  the  sweet  eyes  did  not  open  in  the 
morning,  and  there  was  no  breath  in  the  little 
breast  to  rock  the  dolls  any  more. 


22  THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 

"  I  knew  she  was  an  angel,  and  now  she  has 
flown  away,"  said  Dora  softly,  as  they  watched 
the  white  image  carried  out  in  the  weeping  nurse's 
arms,  with  the  early  sunshine  turning  all  the 
pretty  hair  to  gold. 

"I  think  that  is  what  they  call  dying,  sister. 
It  is  a  much  lovelier  way  to  end  than  as  we  do  in 
the  dust-bin  or  rag-bag.  I  wonder  if  there  is  a 
little  Heaven  anywhere  for  good  dolls  ? "  answered 
Flora,  with  what  looked  like  a  tear  on  her  cheek ; 
but  it  was  only  a  drop  from  the  violets  sent  by  the 
kind  Doctor  last  night. 

"  I  hope  so,  for  I  think  the  souls  of  little  chil- 
dren might  miss  us  if  they  loved  us  as  dear  Midge 
did,"  whispered  Dora,  trying  to  kiss  the  blue 
flower  in  her  hand,  for  the  child  had  shared  her 
last  gift  with  these  friends. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  let  her  take  them  along,  poor 
motherless  baby  ? "  asked  the  Doctor,  when  he  saw 
the  dolls  lying  as  she  had  left  them. 

"I  promised  her  they  should  go  to  the  girl 
they  were  sent  to,  and  please,  I  'd  like  to  keep 
my  word  to  the  little  darling,"  answered  Nurse 
with  a  sob. 

"  You  shall,"  said  the  Doctor,  and  put  them  in 
his  breast  pocket  with  the  faded  violets,  for  every- 
body loved  the  pauper  child  sent  to  die  in  a  hos- 


THE  DOLLS'   JOURNEY  23 

pital,  because  Christian  charity  makes  every  man 
and  woman  father  and  mother  to  these  little 
ones. 

All  day  the  dolls  went  about  in  the  busy  Doc- 
tor's pocket,  and  I  think  the  violets  did  them 
good,  for  the  soft  perfume  clung  to  them  long 
afterward  like  the  memory  of  a  lovely  life,  as 
short  and  sweet  as  that  of  the  flowers. 

In  the  evening  they  were  folded  up  in  a  fresh 
paper  and  re-directed  carefully.  The  Doctor  wrote 
a  little  note  telling  why  he  had  kept  them,  and 
was  just  about  to  put  on  some  stamps,  when  a 
friend  came  in  who  was  going  to  Boston  in  the 
morning. 

"Anything  to  take  along,  Fred?"  asked  the 
new-comer. 

"This  parcel,  if  you  will.  I  have  a  feeling 
that  I  'd  rather  not  have  it  knocked  about  in  a 
mail  bag,"  and  the  Doctor  told  him  why. 

It  was  pleasant  to  see  how  carefully  the 
traveller  put  away  the  parcel  after  that,  and  to 
hear  him  say  that  he  was  going  through  Boston 
to  the  mountains  for  his  holiday,  and  would 
deliver  it  in  Portland  to  Miss  Plum  herself. 

"Now  there  is  some  chance  of  our  getting 
there,"  said  Flora,  as  they  set  off  next  day  in  a 
new  Eussia  leather  bag. 


24  THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 

On  the  way  they  overheard  a  long  chat  be- 
tween some  New  York  and  Boston  ladies  which 
impressed  them  very  much.  Flora  liked  to  hear 
the  fashionable  gossip  about  clothes  and  people 
and  art  and  theatres,  but  Dora  preferred  the 
learned  conversation  of  the  young  Boston  ladies, 
who  seemed  to  know  a  little  of  everything,  or 
think  they  did. 

"  I  hope  mamma  will  give  me  an  entirely  new 
wardrobe  when  I  get  home;  and  we  will  have 
dolls'  weddings  and  balls,  and  a  play,  and  be  as 
fine  and  fashionable  as  those  ladies  down  there," 
said  Flora,  after  listening  a  while. 

"  You  have  got  your  head  full  of  dressy  ideas 
and  high  life,  sister.  I  don't  care  for  such  things, 
but  mean  to  cultivate  my  mind  as  fast  as  I  can. 
That  girl  says  she  is  in  college,  and  named  over 
more  studies  than  I  can  count.  I  do  wish  we 
were  to  stop  and  see  a  little  of  the  refined  society 
of  Boston,"  answered  Dora,  primly. 

"  Pooh ! "  said  Flo,  "  don't  you  try  to  be  intel- 
lectual, for  you  are  only  a  wooden-headed  doll. 
I  mean  to  be  a  real  Westerner,  and  just  enjoy 
myself  as  I  please,  without  caring  what  other 
folks  do  or  think ;  Boston  is  no  better  than  the 
rest  of  the  world,  I  guess." 

Groans  from  every  article  in  the  bag  greeted 


THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY  25 

this  disrespectful  speech,  and  an  avalanche  of 
Boston  papers  fell  upon  the  audacious  doll.  But 
Flo  was  undaunted,  and  shouted  from  underneath 
the  pile :  "  I  don't  care  !  Minnesota  forever  ! "  till 
her  breath  gave  out. 

Dora  was  so  mortified  that  she  never  said  a 
word  till  they  were  let  out  in  a  room  at  the 
Parker  House.  Here  she  admired  everything,  and 
read  all  the  evening  in  a  volume  of  Emerson's 
Poems  from  the  bag,  for  Mr.  Mt.  Vernon  Beacon 
was  a  Boston  man,  and  never  went  anywhere 
without  a  wise  book  or  two  in  his  pocket. 

Flo  turned  up  her  nose  at  all  she  saw,  and  de- 
voted herself  to  a  long  chat  with  the  smart  bag 
which  came  from  New  York  and  was  full  of 
gossip. 

The  next  afternoon  they  really  got  to  Portland, 
and  as  soon  as  Mr.  Beacon  had  made  his  toilet  he 
set  out  to  find  little  Miss  Plum.  When  the  par- 
lor door  opened  to  admit  her  he  was  much  em- 
barrassed, for,  advancing  with  a  paternal  smile 
and  the  dolls  extended  to  the  expected  child,  he 
found  himself  face  to  face  with  a  pretty  young 
lady,  who  looked  as  if  she  thought  him  a  little 
mad. 

A  few  words  explained  the  errand,  however, 
and  when  she  read  the  note  Aunt  Maria's  bright 


26  THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 

eyes  were  full  of  tears  as  she  said,  hugging  the 
dilapidated  dolls : 

"  I  '11  write  the  story  of  their  travels,  and  send 
the  dear  old  things  back  to  the  children  as  soon 
as  possible." 

And  so  she  did  with  Mr.  Beacon's  help,  for 
he  decided  to  try  the  air  of  Portland,  and  spent 
his  vacation  there.  The  dolls  were  re-painted 
and  redressed  till  they  were  more  beautiful  than 
ever,  and  their  clothes  fine  enough  to  suit  even 
Flo. 

They  were  a  good  while  doing  this,  and  when 
all  was  ready,  Aunt  Maria  took  it  into  her  head 
to  run  out  to  St.  Paul  and  surprise  the  children. 
By  a  singular  coincidence  Mr.  Beacon  had  rail- 
road business  in  that  direction,  so  they  set  off  to- 
gether with  two  splendid  dolls  done  up  in  a  gay 
box. 

All  that  was  ever  known  about  that  journey 
was  that  these  travellers  stopped  at  the  hospital 
in  New  York,  and  went  on  better  friends  than  be- 
fore after  hearing  from  the  good  Doctor  all  the 
pathetic  story  of  little  Midge. 

The  young  Plums  had  long  ago  given  up  the 
hope  of  ever  seeing  Do  and  Flo  again,  for  they 
started  in  June,  and  it  was  early  in  September 
when  Aunt  Maria  appeared  before  them  without 


THE   DOLLS'  JOURNEY  27 

the  least  warning,  accompanied  by  a  pleasant  gen- 
tleman from  Boston. 

Six  kisses  had  hardly  resounded  from  aunty's 
blooming  cheeks  when  a  most  attractive  box  was 
produced  from  the  Eussia  leather  bag,  and  the 
wandering  dolls  restored  to  the  arms  of  their  en- 
raptured mammas. 

A  small  volume  neatly  written  and  adorned 
with  a  few  pictures  of  the  most  exciting  incidents 
of  the  trip  also  appeared. 

"  Every  one  writes  or  prints  a  book  in  Boston, 
you  know,  so  we  did  both,"  said  Aunt  Maria, 
laughing,  as  she  handed  over  the  remarkable  his- 
tory which  she  had  composed  and  Mr.  Beacon 
illustrated. 

It  was  read  with  intense  interest,  and  was  as 
true  as  most  stories  are  nowadays. 

"  Nothing  more  delightful  can  happen  now ! " 
exclaimed  the  children,  as  they  laid  by  the  pre 
cious  work  and  enthroned  the  travelled  dolls  ir 
the  place  of  honor  on  the  roof  of  the  baby-house 

But  something  much  more  delightful  did  hap- 
pen ;  for  at  Thanksgiving  time  there  was  a  wed- 
ding at  the  Plums'.  Not  a  dolls  wedding,  as  Flo 
had  planned,  but  a  real  one,  for  the  gentleman 
from  Boston  actually  married  Aunt  Maria. 

There  were  six  bridesmaids,  all  in  blue,  and 


28  THE  DOLLS'  JOURNEY 

Flora  and  Dora,  in  the  loveliest  of  new  pink 
gowns,  were  set  aloft  among  the  roses  on  the 
wedding-cake,  their  proper  place  as  every  one  said, 
for  there  never  would  have  been  any  marriage  at 
all  but  for  this  Dolls'  Journey  From  Minnesota 
to  Maine. 


SHADOW-CHILDREN 

Ned,  Polly,  and  Will  sat  on  the  steps  one  sun- 
shiny morning,  doing  nothing,  except  wishing  they 
had  something  pleasant  to  do. 

"  Something  new,  something  never  heard  of  be- 
fore, —  would  n't  that  be  jolly  ? "  said  Ned,  with 
a  great  yawn. 

"It  must  be  an  amusing  play,  and  one  that 
we  don't  get  tired  of  very  soon,"  added  Polly, 
gravely. 

"  And  something  that  did  n't  be  wrong,  else 
mamma  would  n't  like  it,"  said  little  Will,  who 
was  very  good  for  a  small  boy. 

As  no  one  could  suggest  anything  to  suit,  they 
all  sat  silent  a  few  minutes.  Suddenly  Ned  said, 
rather  crossly,  "  I  wish  my  shadow  would  n't 
mock  me.  Every  time  I  stretch  or  gape  it  does 
the  same,  and  I  don't  like  it." 

"Poor  thing,  it  can't  help  that;  it  has  to  do 
just  what  you  do,  and  be  your  slave  all  day.  I  'm 
glad  I  ain't  a  shadow,"  said  Polly. 


30  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

"  I  try  to  run  away  from  mine  sometimes,  but 
I  can't,  ever.  It  will  come  after  me,  and  in  the 
night  it  scares  me,  if  it  gets  big  and  black,"  said 
Will,  looking  behind  him. 

"  Would  n't  it  be  fun  to  see  shadows  going 
about  alone,  and  doing  things  like  people  ?  "  asked 
Polly. 

"  I  just  wish  they  would.  I  'd  like  to  see  ours 
cut  capers ;  that  would  be  a  jolly  new  game, 
would  n't  it  ? "  said  Ned. 

No  one  had  time  to  speak  ;  for  suddenly  the 
three  little  shadows  on  the  sunny  wall  behind 
them  stood  up  straight,  and  began  to  bow. 

"  Mercy  me  I  "  cried  Polly,  staring  at  them. 

"  By  Jove,  that 's  odd  ! "  said  Ned,  looking 
queer. 

"  Are  they  alive  ? "  asked  Will,  a  little  fright- 
ened. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  they  won't  hurt  you,"  said 
a  soft  voice.  "  To-day  is  midsummer-day,  and 
whoever  wishes  a  wish  can  have  it  till  midnight. 
You  want  to  see  your  shadows  by  themselves  ; 
and  you  can,  if  you  promise  to  follow  them  as 
they  have  followed  you  so  long.  They  will  not 
get  you  into  harm,  so  you  may  safely  try  it,  if  you 
like.  Do  you  agree  for  the  day  to  do  as  they  do, 
and  so  have  your  wish  ?  " 


"Mercy  me!  "  cried  Polly.  —  Page  30. 


SHADOW-CHILDREN  31 

"  Yes,  we  promise,"  answered  the  children. 

"  Tell  no  one  till  night,  and  be  faithful  shadows 
to  the  shadows." 

The  voice  was  silent,  but  with  more  funny  little 
bows  the  shadows  began  to  move  off  in  different 
directions.  The  children  knew  their  own,  for 
Ned's  was  the  tallest,  and  had  its  hands  in  its 
pockets ;  Polly's  had  a  frock  on,  and  two  bows 
where  its  hair  was  tied  up ;  while  Will's  was  a 
plump  little  shadow  in  a  blouse,  with  a  curly  head 
and  a  pug  nose.  Each  child  went  after  its  shadow, 
laughing,  and  enjoying  the  fun. 

Ned's  master  went  straight  to  the  shed,  took 
down  a  basket,  and  marched  away  to  the  garden, 
where  it  began  to  move  its  hands  as  if  busily 
picking  peas.  Ned  stopped  laughing  when  he 
saw  that,  and  looked  rather  ashamed ;  for  he 
remembered  that  his  mother  had  asked  him  to 
do  that  little  job  for  her,  and  he  had  an- 
swered, — 

"  Oh,  bother  the  old  peas !  I  'm  busy,  and  I 
can't." 

"  Who  told  you  about  this  ? "  he  asked,  begin- 
ning to  work. 

The  shadow  shook  its  head,  and  pointed  first  to 
Ned's  new  jacket,  then  to  a  set  of  nice  garden 
tools   near  by,  and  then  seemed  to  blow  a   kiss 


32  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

from  its  shadowy  fingers  towards  mamma,  who 
was  just  passing  the  open  gate. 

"  Oh !  you  mean  that  she  does  lots  for  me ;  so 
I  ought  to  do  what  I  can  for  her,  and  love  her 
dearly,"  said  Ned,  getting  a  pleasanter  face  every 
minute. 

The  shadow  nodded,  and  worked  away  as  busily 
as  the  bees  tumbling  heels  over  head  in  the  great 
yellow  squash  blossoms,  and  getting  as  dusty  as 
little  millers.  Somehow  Ned  rather  liked  the 
work,  with  such  an  odd  comrade  near  by ;  for, 
though  the  shadow  didn't  really  help  a  bit,  it 
seemed  to  try,  and  set  an  excellent  example. 
When  the  basket  was  full,  the  shadow  took  one 
handle,  and  Ned  the  other,  and  they  carried  it  in. 

"Thank  you,  dear.  I  was  afraid  we  should 
have  to  give  up  our  peas  to-day ;  I  'm  so  busy, 
I  can't  stop,"  said  mamma,  looking  surprised  and 
pleased. 

Ned  could  n't  stop  to  talk,  for  the  shadow  ran 
away  to  the  woodpile  and  began  to  chop  with  all 
its  might. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  must ;  but  I  never  saw  such 
a  fellow  for  work  as  this  shadow  is.  He  is  n't  a 
bit  like  me,  though  he  's  been  with  me  so  long," 
said  Ned,  swinging  the  real  hatchet  in  time  with 
the  shadowy  one. 


SHADO  W-CHILDREN  33 

Polly's  new  mistress  went  to  the  dining-room 
and  fell  to  washing  up  the  breakfast  cups.  Polly 
hated  that  work,  and  sulkily  began  to  rattle  the 
spoons  and  knock  the  things  about.  But  the 
shadow  wouldn't  allow  that;  and  Polly  had  to 
do  just  what  it  did,  though  she  grumbled  all  the 
while. 

"  She  does  n't  splash  a  bit,  or  make  any  clatter, 
so  I  guess  she 's  a  tidy  creature,"  said  Polly. 
"  How  long  she  does  rub  each  spoon  and  glass. 
We  never  shall  get  done.  What  a  fuss  she  makes 
with  the  napkins,  laying  them  all  even  in  the 
drawer.  And  now  she  's  at  the  salt-cellars,  doing 
them  just  as  mamma  likes.  I  wish  she  'd  live 
here,  and  do  my  work  for  me.  Why,  what's 
that  ? "  And  Polly  stopped  fretting  to  listen,  for 
she  seemed  to  hear  the  sound  of  singing,  —  so 
sweet,  and  yet  so  very  faint  she  could  catch  no 
words,  and  only  make  out  a  cheerful  little  tune. 

"  Do  you  hear  any  one  singing,  mamma  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  No,  I  wish  I  did."  And  mamma  sighed ;  for 
baby  was  poorly,  piles  of  sewing  lay  waiting  for 
her,  Biddy  was  turning  things  topsy-turvy  in  the 
kitchen  for  want  of  a  word  from  the  mistress,  and 
Polly  was  looking  sullen. 

The  little  girl  did  n't  say  any  more,  but  worked 
3 


34  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

quietly  and  watched  the  shadow,  feeling  sure  the 
faint  song  came  from  it.  Presently  she  began  to 
hum  the  tune  she  caught  by  snatches  ;  and,  before 
she  knew  it,  she  was  singing  away  like  a  black- 
bird. Baby  stopped  crying,  and  mamma  said, 
smiling : 

"  Now  I  hear  somebody  singing,  and  it 's  the 
music  I  like  best  in  the  world. " 

That  pleased  Polly ;  but,  a  minute  after,  she 
stopped  smiling,  for  the  shadow  went  and  took 
baby,  or  seemed  to,  and  Polly  really  did.  Now 
baby  was  heavy,  and  cross  with  his  teeth,  and 
Polly  did  n't  feel  like  tending  it  one  bit.  Mamma 
hurried  away  to  the  kitchen,  and  Polly  walked 
up  and  down  the  room  with  poor  baby  hanging 
over  her  arm,  crying  dismally,  with  a  pin  in  its 
back,  a  wet  bib  under  its  chin,  and  nothing  cold 
and  hard  to  bite  with  its  hot,  aching  gums,  where 
the  little  teeth  were  trying  to  come  through, 

"  Do  stop,  you  naughty,  fretty  baby.  I  'm  tired 
of  your  screaming,  and  it 's  high  time  you  went 
to  sleep.  Bless  me !  what 's  Miss  Shadow  doing 
with  her  baby  ?  "  said  Polly. 

Miss  Shadow  took  out  the  big  pin  and  laid  it 
away,  put  on  a  dry  bib,  and  gave  her  baby  a  nice 
ivory  ring  to  bite ;  then  began  to  dance  up  and 
down  the  room,  till  the  shadow  baby  clapped  its 


SHADOW-CHILDREN  35 

hands  and  kicked  delightedly.  Polly  laughed, 
and  did  the  same,  feeling  sorry  she  had  been  so 
pettish.  Presently  both  babies  grew  quiet,  went 
to  sleep,  and  were  laid  in  the  cradle. 

"  Now,  I  hope  we  shall  rest  a  little,"  said  Polly, 
stretching  her  arms. 

But  no  :  down  sat  the  shadow  and  began  to  sew, 
making  her  needle  fly  like  a  real  little  seamstress. 

"  Oh,  dear  ! "  groaned  Polly.  "  I  promised  to 
hem  those  handkerchiefs  for  Ned,  and  so  I  must ; 
but  I  do  think  handkerchiefs  are  the  most  pokey 
things  in  the  world  to  sew.  I  dare  say  you  think 
you  can  sew  faster  than  I  can.  Just  wait  a  bit, 
and  see  what  I  can  do,  miss,"  she  said  to  the 
shadow. 

It  took  some  time  to  find  her  thimble  and 
needles  and  spools,  for  Polly  was  n't  a  very  neat 
little  girl ;  but  she  got  settled  at  last,  and  stitched 
away  as  if  bent  on  beating  her  dumb  friend. 

Little  Will's  shadow  went  up  to  the  nursery, 
and  stopped  before  a  basin  of  water.  "  Oh  !  ah  ! 
ain't  this  drefful  ?  "  cried  Will,  with  a  shiver ;  for 
he  knew  he  'd  got  to  have  his  face  washed,  be- 
cause he  wouldn't  have  it  done  properly  when 
he  got  up,  but  ran  away.  Now  Will  was  a  good 
child ;  but  this  one  thing  was  his  great  trouble, 
and  sometimes  he  could  n't  bear  it.     Jane  was  so 


36  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

rough.  She  let  soap  get  in  his  eyes,  and  water 
run  down  his  neck,  and  she  pinched  his  nose 
when  she  wiped  him,  and  brushed  his  hair  so 
hard  that  really  it  was  dreadful ;  and  even  a  big- 
ger boy  would  have  found  it  hard  to  bear.  He 
shivered  and  sighed ;  but  Jane  came  in  ;  and, 
when  he  saw  that  the  shadow  stood  still  and  took 
the  scrubbing  like  a  little  hero,  he  tried  to  do  the 
same,  and  succeeded  so  well  that  Jane  actually 
patted  his  head  and  called  him  "  a  deary,"  which 
was  something  new,  for  old  Nurse  Jane  was 
always  very  busy  and  rather  cross. 

Feeling  that  nothing  worse  could  possibly 
happen  to  him,  Will  ran  after  his  shadow,  as  it 
flitted  away  into  the  barn,  and  began  to  feed  the 
chickens. 

"  There,  now  !  I  forgetted  all  about  my  chic- 
keys,  and  the  shadow  'membered  'em,  and  I  'm 
glad  of  it,"  said  Will,  scattering  dabs  of  meal  and 
water  to  the  chirping,  downy  little  creatures  who 
pecked  and  fluttered  at  his  feet.  Little  Shadow 
hunted  for  eggs,  drove  the  turkeys  out  of  the  gar- 
den, and  picked  a  basket  of  chips ;  then  it  went 
to  play  with  Sammy,  a  neighbor's  child ;  for,  being 
a  small  shadow,  it  hadn't  many  jobs  to  do,  and 
plenty  of  active  play  was  good  for  it. 

Sammy  was   a   rough    little    boy   and   rather 


SHADOW-CHILDREN  37 

selfish;  so  when  they  played  ball  he  wanted  to 
throw  all  the  time ;  and,  when  Will  objected,  he 
grew  angry  and  struck  him.  The  blow  didn't 
hurt  Will's  cheek  much,  but  it  did  his  little 
feelings,  and  he  lifted  his  hand  to  strike  back, 
when  he  saw  his  shadow  go  and  kiss  Sammy's 
shadow.  All  his  anger  was  gone  in  a  minute, 
and  he  just  put  his  arm  round  Sammy's  neck 
and  kissed  him.  This  kiss  for  a  blow  made  him 
so  ashamed  that  he  began  to  cry,  and  could  n't 
be  comforted  till  he  had  given  Will  his  best 
marble  and  a  ride  on  his  pony. 

About  an  hour  before  dinner  the  three  shadows 
and  the  children  met  in  the  garden  and  had  a 
grand  game  of  play,  after  they  had  told  each 
other  what  they  had  been  doing  since  they 
parted.  Now  the  shadows  did  n't  forget  baby 
even  then,  but  got  out  the  wagon,  and  Miss  Baby, 
all  fresh  from  her  nap,  sat  among  her  pillows  like 
a  queen,  while  Ned  was  horse,  Polly  footman,  and 
Will  driver ;  and  in  this  way  she  travelled  all 
round  the  garden  and  barn,  up  the  lane  and  down 
to  the  brook,  where  she  was  much  delighted  with 
the  water  sparkling  along  and  the  fine  splash  of 
the  stones  they  threw  in. 

Wlien  the  dinner-bell  rang  mamma  saw  four 
clean,  rosy  faces  and  four  smooth  heads  at  the 


38  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

table ;  for  the  shadow-cMldren  made  themselves 
neat  without  being  told.  Every  one  was  merry 
and  hungry  and  good-natured.  Even  poor  baby 
forgot  her  teeth,  and  played  a  regular  rub-a-dub 
with  her  spoon  on  her  mug,  and  tried  to  tell  about 
the  fine  things  she  saw  on  her  drive.  The  chil- 
dren said  nothing  about  the  new  play,  and  no  one 
observed  the  queer  actions  of  their  shadows  but 
themselves.  They  saw  that  there  was  no  gobbling, 
or  stretching  over,  or  spilling  of  things,  among  the 
shadows ;  but  that  they  waited  to  be  helped, 
served  others  first,  and  ate  tidily,  which  was  a 
great  improvement  upon  the  usual  state  of  things. 

It  was  Saturday  afternoon ;  the  day  was  fine, 
and  mamma  told  them  they  could  go  for  a 
holiday  frolic  in  the  woods.  "  Don't  go  to  the 
pond,  and  be  home  early,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  mamma ;  we  11  remember,"  they  an- 
swered, as  they  scampered  away  to  get  ready. 

"  We  shall  go  through  the  village,  and  Mary 
King  will  be  looking  out,  so  I  shall  wear  my 
best  hat.  Mamma  won't  see  me  if  I  slip  down 
the  back  way,  and  I  do  so  want  Mary  to  know- 
that  my  hat  is  prettier  than  hers,"  said  Polly,  up 
in  her  little  room. 

Now  Polly  was  rather  vain,  and  liked  to  prink  ; 
so  she  got  out  the  new  hat,  and  spent  some  time 


SHADOW-CHILDREN  39 

in  smoothing  her  braids  and  putting  on  her  blue 
ribbons.  But  when  all  was  ready,  and  the  boys 
getting  impatient,  she  found  her  shadow,  with  a 
sunbonnet  on,  standing  by  the  door,  as  if  to 
prevent  her  going  out. 

"  You  tiresome  thing !  do  you  mean  that  I 
must  n't  wear  my  hat,  but  that  old  bonnet  ? " 
asked  Polly. 

The  Shadow  nodded  and  beckoned  and  patted 
its  head,  as  if  it  was  all  right. 

"  I  wish  I  had  n't  promised  to  do  as  you  do, 
then  I  could  do  as  I  like,  and  not  make  a  fright 
of  myself,"  said  Polly,  rather  sulkily,  as  she  put 
away  the  hat,  and  tied  on  the  old  bonnet  with  a 
jerk. 

Once  out  in  the  lovely  sunshine  she  soon 
forgot  the  little  disappointment ;  and,  as  they 
didn't  go  through  the  village,  but  by  a  green 
lane,  where  she  found  some  big  blackberries,  she 
was  quite  contented.  Polly  had  a  basket  to  hold 
fruit  or  flowers,  Ned  his  jack-knife,  and  Will  a 
long  stick  on  which  he  rode,  fancying  that  this 
sort  of  horse  would  help  his  short  legs  along ;  so 
they  picked,  whittled,  and  trotted  their  way  to 
the  wood,  finding  all  manner  of  interesting  things 
on  the  road. 

The   wood   was   full   of   pleasant    sights    and 


40  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

sounds ;  for  wild  roses  bloomed  all  along  the 
path,  ferns  and  scarlet  berries  filled  the  little 
dells,  squirrels  chattered,  birds  sang,  and  pines 
whispered  musically  overhead. 

"  I  'm  going  to  stop  here  and  rest,  and  make  a 
wreath  of  these  pretty  wild  roses  for  baby ;  it 's 
her  birthday,  and  it  will  please  mamma,"  said 
Polly,  sitting  down  on  a  mound  of  moss,  with  a 
lapful  of  flowers. 

"  I  'm  going  to  cut  a  fishing-pole,  and  will  be 
back  in  a  minute."  And  Ned  went  crashing  into 
the  thickest  part  of  the  wood. 

"  I  shall  see  where  that  rabbit  went  to,  and 
maybe  I  '11  find  some  berries,"  said  Will,  trotting 
down  the  path  the  wild  rabbit  had  gone. 

The  sound  of  the  boys'  steps  died  away,  and 
Polly  was  wondering  how  it  would  seem  to  live 
all  alone  in  the  wood,  when  a  little  girl  came 
trudging  by  with  a  great  pail  of  berries  on  her 
arm.  She  was  a  poor  child :  her  feet  were  bare, 
her  gown  was  ragged,  she  wore  an  old  shawl  over 
her  head,  and  walked  as  if  lame.  Polly  sat 
behind  the  ferns,  and  the  child  did  not  see  her 
till  Polly  called  out.  The  sudden  sound  startled 
her,  and  she  dropped  her  pail,  spilling  the  berries 
all  over  the  path.  The  little  girl  began  to  cry, 
and  Polly  to  laugh,  saying,  in  a  scornful  tone : 


SHADOW-CHILDREN  41 

"  How  silly  to  cry  for  a  few  berries  ! " 

"  I  've  been  all  day  picking  'em,"  said  the  girl ; 
"  and  I  'm  so  tired  and  hungry,  'cause  I  did  n't 
dare  to  go  home  till  my  pail  was  full  —  mother 
scolds  if  I  do  —  and  now  they  're  all  spoilt.  Oh, 
dear !  dear  me  ! "  And  she  cried  so  hard  that 
great  tears  fell  on  the  moss. 

Polly  was  sorry  now,  and  sat  looking  at  her  till 
she  saw  her  shadow  down  on  its  knees,  picking 
up  the  berries ;  then  it  seemed  to  fold  its  little 
handkerchief  round  the  girl's  bruised  foot,  and 
give  her  something  from  its  pocket.  Polly  jumped 
up  and  imitated  the  kind  shadow,  even  to  giving 
the  great  piece  of  gingerbread  she  had  brought 
for  fear  she  should  be  hungry. 

"  Take  this,"  she  said  gently.  "  I  'm  sorry  I 
frightened  you.  Here  are  the  berries  all  picked 
up,  and  none  the  worse  for  falling  in  the  grass. 
If  you  '11  take  them  to  the  white  house  on  the  hill, 
my  mamma  will  buy  them,  and  then  your  mother 
won't  scold  you." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  miss  !  It 's  ever  so  good.  I  '11 
take  the  berries  to  your  mother,  and  bring  her 
more  whenever  she  likes,"  said  the  child  grate- 
fully, as  she  walked  away  munching  the  ginger- 
bread, and  smiling  till  there  were  little  rainbows 
in  her  tears. 


42  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

Meanwhile  Ned  had  poked  about  in  the  bushes 
looking  for  a  good  pole.  Presently  he  saw  a  willow 
down  by  the  pond,  and  thought  that  would  give 
him  a  nice,  smooth  pole.  He  forgot  his  promise, 
and  down  he  went  to  the  pond,  where  he  cut  his 
stick,  and  was  whitthng  the  end,  when  he  saw  a 
boat  by  the  shore.  It  was  untied,  and  oars  lay 
in  it,  as  if  waiting  for  some  one  to  come  and 
row  out. 

"  1 11  just  take  a  little  pull  across  and  get  those 
cardinal-flowers  for  Polly,"  he  said,  and  went  to 
the  boat. 

He  got  in,  and  was  about  to  push  off,  when  he 
saw  his  shadow  standing  on  the  shore. 

"  Don't  be  a  fool ;  get  in,  and  come  along,"  he 
said  to  it,  remembering  his  promise  now,  but  de- 
ciding to  break  it,  and  ask  pardon  afterwards. 

But  the  shadow  shook  its  head  ;  pointed  to  the 
swift  stream  that  ran  between  the  banks,  the  rocks 
and  mud  on  the  opposite  side,  and  the  leaky  boat 
itself. 

"  I  ain't  afraid,  mamma  won't  mind,  if  I  tell 
her  I  'm  sorry ;  and  it  will  be  such  fun  to  row 
alone.  Be  a  good  fellow,  and  let  me  go,"  said 
Ned,  beckoning. 

But  the  shadow  would  not  stir,  and  Ned  was 
obliged  to  mind.     He  did  so  very  reluctantly,  and 


SHADOW-CHILDREN  43 

scolded  the  shadow  well  as  he  went  back  to  Polly  ; 
though  all  the  time  he  felt  he  was  doing  right, 
and  knew  he  should  be  glad  afterwards. 

Will  trotted  after  the  rabbit,  but  did  n't  find  it ; 
he  found  a  bird's-nest  instead  with  four  little  birds 
in  it.  He  had  an  empty  cage  at  home,  and  longed 
for  something  to  put  in  it ;  for  kittens  did  n't  like 
it,  and  caterpillars  and  beetlebugs  got  away.  He 
chose  the  biggest  bird,  and,  holding  him  carefully, 
walked  away  to  find  Polly.  The  poor  mother- 
bird  chirped  and  fluttered  in  great  distress ;  but 
Will  kept  on  till  his  little  shadow  came  before 
him,  and  tried  to  make  him  turn  back. 

"  No,  no,  I  want  him,"  said  Will.  "  I  won't  hurt 
him,  and  his  mother  has  three  left:  she  won't 
mind  if  I  take  one." 

Here  the  mother-bird  chirped  so  loud  it  was 
impossible  to  help  seeing  that  she  did  care  very 
much ;  and  the  shadow  stamped  its  foot  and  waved 
its  hand  as  if  ordering  the  young  robber  to  carry 
back  the  baby-bird.  Will  stood  still  and  thought 
a  minute ;  but  his  little  heart  was  a  very  kind  one, 
and  he  soon  turned  about,  saying  pleasantly : 

"  Yes,  it  is  naughty,  and  I  won't  do  it.  I  '11 
ask  mamma  to  get  me  a  canary,  and  will  let  this 
birdie  stay  with  his  brothers." 

The  shadow  patted   him  on  the  shoulder  and 


44  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

seemed  to  be  delighted  as  Will  put  the  bird  in  the 
nest  and  walked  on,  feeling  much  happier  than  if 
he  had  kept  it.  A  bush  of  purple  berries  grew  by 
the  path,  and  Will  stopped  to  pick  some.  He 
didn't  know  what  they  were,  and  mamma  had 
often  told  him  never  to  eat  strange  things.  But 
they  smelt  so  good,  and  looked  so  nice,  he  could  n't 
resist,  and  lifted  one  to  his  mouth,  when  little 
Shadow  motioned  for  him  to  stop. 

"  Oh,  dear !  you  don't  let  me  do  anything  I 
want  to,"  sighed  Will.  "  I  shall  ask  Polly  if  I 
tar  n't  eat  these ;  and  if  she  says  I  may,  I  shall, 
so  now." 

He  ran  off  to  ask  Polly,  but  she  said  they 
were  poisonous,  and  begged  him  to  throw  them 
away. 

"  Good  little  shadow,  to  keep  me  safe  ! "  cried 
Will.  "  I  like  you ;  and  I  '11  mind  better  next 
time,  'cause  you  are  always  right." 

The  shadow  seemed  to  like  this,  and  bobbed 
about  so  comically  it  made  Will  laugh  till  his 
eyes  were  full  of  tears.  Ned  came  back,  and  they 
went  on,  having  grand  times  in  the  wood.  They 
found  plenty  of  berries  to  fill  the  basket ;  they 
swung  down  on  slender  birches,  and  got  rolls  of 
white  bark  for  canoes ;  they  saw  all  sorts  of  wild- 
wood  insects  and  birds,  and  frolicked  till   they 


SHADOW-CHILDREN  45 

were  tired.  As  they  crossed  a  field  a  cow  sud- 
denly put  down  her  head  and  ran  at  them,  as  if 
she  was  afraid  they  meant  to  hurt  her  calf.  All 
turned  and  ran  as  fast  as  they  could  toward  the 
wall ;  but  poor  Will  in  his  fright  tumbled  down 
and  lay  screaming.  Ned  and  Polly  had  reached 
the  wall,  and,  looking  back,  saw  that  their  shadows 
had  not  followed.  Ned's  stood  before  Will,  brand- 
ishing his  pole ;  and  Polly's  was  flapping  a  shadowy 
sun-bonnet  with  all  its  might.  As  soon  as  they 
saw  that,  back  they  went, — -Ned  to  threaten  till 
he  broke  his  pole,  and  Polly  to  flap  till  the  strings 
came  off.  As  if  anxious  to  do  its  part,  the  bonnet 
flew  up  in  the  air,  and  coming  down  lit  on  the 
cross  cow's  head,  which  so  astonished  her  that 
she  ran  away  as  hard  as  she  could  pelt. 

"  Was  n't  that  funny  ? "  said  Will,  when  they 
had  tumbled  over  the  wall,  and  lay  laughing  in 
the  grass  on  the  safe  side. 

"  I  'm  glad  I  wore  the  old  bonnet,  for  I  sup- 
pose my  best  hat  would  have  gone  just  the  same," 
said  Polly,  thankfully. 

"  The  calf  does  n't  know  its  own  mother  with 
that  thing  on,"  laughed  Ned. 

"  How  brave  and  kind  you  were  to  come  back 
and  save  me !  I  'd  have  been  deaded  if  you 
hadn't,"  said   Will,  looking   at  his   brother  and 


46  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

sister  with  his  little  face  full  of  grateful  admira- 
tion. 

They  turned  towards  home  after  this  flurry, 
feeling  quite  like  heroes.  When  they  came  to 
the  corner  where  two  roads  met,  Ned  proposed 
they  should  take  the  river-road ;  for,  though  the 
longest,  it  was  much  the  pleasantest. 

"  We  shan't  be  home  at  supper-time,"  said  Polly. 
"  You  won't  be  able  to  do  your  jobs,  Ned,  nor  I 
mine,  and  Will's  chickens  will  have  to  go  to  bed 
hungry." 

"  Never  mind,  it 's  a  holiday,  so  let 's  enjoy  it 
and  not  bother,"  answered  Ned. 

"  We  promised  mamma  we  'd  come  home  early," 
said  WiU. 

They  stood  looking  at  the  two  roads,  —  one 
sandy,  hot  and  hilly ;  the  other  green  and  cool 
and  level,  along  the  river-side.  They  all  chose 
the  pleasant  path,  and  walked  on  till  Ned  cried 
out,  "  Why,  where  are  our  shadows  ?  " 

They  looked  behind,  before,  and  on  either  side ; 
but  nowhere  could  they  see  them. 

"  They  were  with  us  at  the  corner,"  said  Will 

"  Let 's  run  back,  and  try  to  find  them,"  said 
Polly. 

"  No,  let  'em  go ;  I  'm  tired  of  minding  mine, 
and  don't  care  if  I  never  see  it  again,"  said  Ned. 


SHADOW-CHILDREN  47 

"  Don't  say  so  ;  for  I  remember  hearing  about  a 
man  who  sold  his  shadow,  and  then  got  into  lots 
of  trouble  because  he  had  none.  We  promised 
to  follow  them,  and  we  must,"  said  Polly. 

"  I  wish,"  began  Ned  in  a  pet,  but  Polly  clapped 
her  hand  over  his  mouth,  saying : 

"  Pray  don't  wish  now,  for  it  may  come  to 
pass  as  the  man's  wish  in  the  fairy  tale  did,  and 
the  black  pudding  flew  up  and  stuck  tiglit  to  his 
wife's  nose." 

This  made  Ned  laugh,  and  they  all  turned 
back  to  the  corner.  Looking  up  the  hilly  road, 
they  saw  the  three  shadows  trudging  along,  as  if 
bent  on  getting  home  in  good  time.  Without 
saying  a  word,  the  children  followed  ;  and,  when 
they  got  to  the  garden  gate,  they  all  said  at  once  : 

"  Are  n't  you  glad  you  came  ? " 

Under  the  elm-tree  stood  a  pretty  tea-table, 
covered  with  bread  and  butter,  custards,  and  ber- 
ries, and  in  the  middle  a  fine  cake  with  sugar- 
roses  on  the  top,  and  mamma  and  baby,  all  nicely 
dressed,  were  waiting  to  welcome  them  to  the 
birthday  feast.  Polly  crowned  the  little  queen, 
Ned  gave  her  a  willow  whistle  he  had  made,  and 
Will  some  pretty,  bright  pebbles  he  had  found; 
and  Miss  Baby  was  as  happy  as  a  bird,  with 
her  treasures. 


48  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

A  pleasant  supper-time ;  then  the  small  duties 
for  each  one ;  and  then  the  go-to-bed  frolic. 
The  nursery"  was  a  big  room,  and  in  the  even- 
ing a  bright  wood  fire  always  burned  there  for 
baby.  Mamma  sat  before  it,  softly  rubbing  baby's 
little  rosy  limbs  before  she  went  to  bed,  singing 
and  telling  stories  meanwhile  to  the  three  children 
who  pranced  about  in  their  long  nightgowns.  This 
evening  they  had  a  gay  time ;  for  the  shadows 
amused  them  by  all  sorts  of  antics,  and  kept  them 
laughing  till  they  were  tired.  As  they  sat  rest- 
ing on  the  big  sofa,  they  heard  a  soft,  sweet  voice 
singing.  It  was  n't  mamma,  for  she  was  only 
talking  to  baby,  and  this  voice  sang  a  real  song. 
Presently  they  saw  mamma's  shadow  on  the  wall, 
and  found  it  was  the  shadow-mother  singing  to 
the  shadow-children.  They  listened  intently,  and 
this  is  what  they  heard : 

"  Little  shadows,  little  shadows, 

Dancing  on  the  chamber  wall, 
While  I  sit  beside  the  hearthstone 

Where  the  red  flames  rise  and  fall. 
Caps  and  nightgowns,  caps  and  nightgowns, 

My  three  antic  shadows  wear ; 
And  no  sound  they  make  in  playing, 

For  the  six  small  feet  are  bare. 

**  Dancing  gayly,  dancing  gayly, 
To  and  fro  all  together, 


SHADOW-CHILDREN  49 

Like  a  family  of  daisies 

Blown  about  in  windy  weather; 
Nimble  fairies,  nimble  fairies, 

Playing  pranks  in  the  warm  glow, 
While  I  sing  the  nursery  ditties 

Childish  phantoms  love  and  know. 

"  Now  what  happens,  now  what  happens  P 

One  small  shadow  's  tumbled  down : 
I  can  see  it  on  the  carpet. 

Softly  rubbing  its  hurt  crown. 
No  one  whimpers,  no  one  whimpers ; 

A  brave-hearted  sprite  is  this: 
See  1  the  others  offer  comfort 

In  a  silent,  shadowy  kiss. 

**  Hush !  they  're  creeping  ;  hush  !  they  're  creeping, 
Up  about  my  rocking-chair : 
I  can  feel  their  loving  fingers 

Clasp  my  neck  and  touch  my  hair. 
Little  shadows,  little  shadows, 

Take  me  captive,  hold  me  tight, 
As  they  climb  and  cling  and  whisper, 
'  Mother  dear,  good  night !  good  night !  '  " 

As  the  song  ended,  the  real  children,  as  well  as 
the'  shadows,  lovingly  kissed  mamma,  and  said 
"  Good-night ; "  then  went  away  into  their  rooms, 
said  their  prayers,  and  nestled  down  into  their 
beds.  Ned  slept  alone  in  the  room  next  that 
which  Polly  and  Will  had ;  and,  after  lying  quiet 
a  little  while,  he  called  out  softly : 

"  I  say,  Polly,  are  you  asleep  ? " 
4 


50  SHADOW-CHILDREN 

"  No,  I  'm  thinking  what  a  queer  day  we  've 
had,"  answered  Polly. 

"  It 's  been  a  good  day,  and  I  'm  glad  we  tried 
our  wish ;  for  the  shadows  showed  us,  as  well  as 
they  could,  what  we  ought  to  do  and  be.  I 
shan't  forget  it,  shall  you  ? "  said  Ned. 

"  No,  I  'm  much  obliged  for  the  lesson." 

"  So  is  I,"  called  out  Will,  in  a  very  earnest, 
but  rather  a  sleepy  little  voice. 

"  I  wonder  what  mamma  will  say,  when  we  tell 
her  about  it,"  said  Ned. 

"  And  I  wonder  if  our  shadows  will  come  back 
to  us  at  midnight,  and  follow  us  as  they  used  to 
do,"  added  Polly. 

"I  shall  be  very  careful  where  I  lead  my 
shadow,  'cause  he  's  a  good  little  one,  and  set  me 
a  righter  zarmple  than  ever  I  did  him,"  said  Will, 
and  then  dropped  asleep. 

The  others  agreed  with  him,  and  resolved  that 
their  shadows  should  not  be  ashamed  of  them. 
All  were  fast  asleep ;  and  no  one  but  the  moon 
saw  the  shadows  come  stealing  back  at  midnight, 
and,  having  danced  about  the  little  beds,  vanish 
as  the  clock  struck  twelve. 


THE   MOSS  PEOPLE 

"  Eain,  rain,  go  away, 
Come  again  another  day," 

Sang  little  Marnie,  as  she  stood  at  the  window 
watching  the  drops  patter  on  the  pane,  the  elm- 
boughs  toss  in  the  wind,  and  the  clover-blossoms 
lift  up  their  rosy  faces  to  be  washed.  But  the 
rain  did  not  go  away,  and,  finding  that  mamma 
had  fallen  asleep  over  her  book,  Marnie  said  to 
herself : 

"  I  will  go  and  play  quietly  with  my  fairy-land 
till  mamma  wakes  up  and  cuts  me  some  paper 
fairies  to  put  in  it." 

Mamie's  fairy -land  was  as  pretty  a  plaything  as 
any  child  could  wish  for,  and,  as  every  child  can 
make  one  in  the  summer  time,  let  us  tell  what  it 
was.  The  little  girl  firmly  believed  in  elves,  and  was 
always  wishing  she  could  go  to  fairy-land.  That 
rainy  day,  when  she  had  longed  for  something  to 
do,  her  mother  said : 

"  As  you  can't  go  to  fairy-land,  why  don't  you 
make  one  for  yourself  ? " 


62  THE   MOSS  PEOPLE 

Such  a  happy  thought,  and  such  a  busy  little 
girl  as  Marnie  was,  working  away,  forgetful  of 
rain  or  loneliness !  Mamma  was  so  kind  and 
helpful  in  suggesting  ways  and  supplying  means, 
that  the  new  fairy-land  really  did  seem  to  rise  as 
if  by  enchantment. 

A  long,  shallow  box,  filled  with  earth,  which 
was  covered  with  moss  of  all  kinds,  gathered  by 
Marnie  the  day  before ;  some  green  as  grass,  some 
soft  as  velvet,  some  full  of  red-brimmed  cups, 
some  feathery  and  tall,  some  pale  and  dry  ;  marsh, 
rock,  tree,  and  field  had  given  their  share,  and  out 
of  this  the  little  hands  fashioned  a  dainty  pleasure- 
ground  for  the  elves.  Ferns  and  spires  of  ever- 
green were  the  trees  fencing  in  the  garden,  standing 
in  groups,  or  making  shady  avenues.  Silver- white 
mushrooms  with  rosy  lining  stood  here  and  there 
like  little  tables,  and  mossy  mounds  or  colored 
pebbles  served  for  seats.  Mamie's  china  bowl 
was  sunk  deep  in  the  moss,  filled  with  water,  on 
which  floated  pea-pod  boats  with  roseleaf  sails. 
Acorn-cups,  with  blue  and  white  comfits  for  eggs, 
were  fastened  in  the  trees,  and  toy  birds  brooded 
over  their  nests  in  the  most  natural  manner. 
Dead  butterflies,  lady-bugs,  and  golden-green 
beetles  from  Mamie's  museum  hung  here  and 
there,   as   if   alive.     On  a  small  mound  stood  a 


THE  MOSS  PEOPLE  53 

pretty  Swiss  chalet,  with  some  droll  wooden  men 
and  women  near  it.  One  girl  was  churning,  an- 
other rocking  a  mite  of  a  baby,  a  man  and  his 
donkey  were  just  going  up  the  hill,  and  a  family 
of  wooden  bears  from  Berne  sat  round  a  table  eat- 
ing dinner.  A  little  marble  hound  with  a  golden 
chain  about  its  neck  guarded  this  child's  paradise, 
and  nothing  was  wanted  to  make  it  quite  perfect 
but  some  of  the  winged  paper-dolls  with  prettily 
painted  faces  that  mamma  made  so  nicely. 

"  I  must  wait  till  she  wakes  up,"  said  Marnie, 
with  a  patient  sigh,  as  she  drew  her  little  chair 
before  the  table  where  the  box  stood,  and,  leaning 
her  chin  on  her  chubby  hand,  sat  looking  ad- 
miringly at  her  work. 

The  ruddy  glow  of  the  fire  shone  warmly  over 
the  green  hills  and  dales  of  fairy-land,  the  soft 
patter  of  the  rain  sounded  like  tiny  feet  tripping 
to  and  fro,  and  all  the  motionless  inhabitants  of 
the  garden  seemed  waiting  for  some  spell  to  break 
their  sleep.  Marnie  never  knew  how  it  happened, 
but,  as  she  sat  looking  at  the  Swiss  cottage,  she 
suddenly  heard  a  rustling  inside,  and  saw  some- 
thing pass  before  the  open  windows.  She  thought 
the  chrysalis  she  had  put  in  there  had  come  to 
life,  and  waited,  hoping  to  see  a  pretty  butterfly 
pop  its  head    out.     But  what  a   start   she   gave 


64  THE  MOSS  PEOPLE 

when  suddenly  the  little  door  opened  and  a  wee 
man  came  marching  out.  Yes,  actually  a  living, 
tiny  man,  dressed  like  a  hunter  in  green  from  top 
to  toe,  with  a  silver  horn  slung  over  his  shoulder 
and  a  bow  in  his  hand ! 

Marnie  held  her  breath  lest  she  should  blow 
him  away,  and  peeped  with  all  her  eyes  from  be- 
hind the  hemlock-boughs,  wondering  what  would 
happen  next.  Up  the  steps  ran  the  little  man  to 
the  balcony  that  always  hangs  outside  a  Swiss 
chalet,  and  lifting  his  horn  to  his  lips  blew  a  blast 
so  soft  and  clear  it  sounded  like  the  faint,  far-off 
carol  of  a  bird.  Three  times  the  fairy  bugle 
sounded,  and  at  the  third  blast,  swarming  up  from 
the  moss  below,  dropping  from  the  ferns  above, 
floating  on  the  ripples  of  the  mimic  lake,  and 
turning  somersaults  over  the  mushrooms,  came 
hundreds  of  lovely  little  creatures,  all  gay,  all 
graceful,  all  in  green.  How  they  danced  to  and 
fro,  airy  as  motes  in  a  sunbeam  !  how  they  sung 
and  shouted,  as  they  peeped  everywhere  !  and  how 
their  tiny  faces  shone  as  they  rejoiced  over  the 
pleasant  land  they  had  found !  For  the  same 
peal  that  brought  the  moss  people  from  their  beds 
woke  up  every  inanimate  thing  in  fairy-land. 

The  toy -birds  began  to  sing,  the  butterflies  and 
lady-bugs  fluttered  gayly  about,  the  white  hound 


THE  MOSS  PEOPLE  55 

broke  his  chain  and  frisked  away,  the  wooden 
maid  began  to  churn,  the  mother  set  the  cradle 
rocking,  while  the  mite  of  a  baby  kicked  up  its 
wooden  legs,  and  the  man  whipped  the  donkey, 
which  gave  such  a  natural  bray  Marnie  couldn't 
help  laughing,  it  was  so  droll.  Smoke  rose  from 
the  Swiss  cottage,  as  if  fairy  feasts  were  being 
cooked  within ;  and  the  merry  moss  people, 
charmed  with  the  pretty  house,  crowded  it  so  full 
that  every  window  showed  half-a-dozen  bright 
faces,  the  balcony  quite  creaked  with  the  weight 
of  them,  and  green  caps  came  bobbing  out  at  the 
chimney-top. 

Dear  me,  what  fun  they  did  have  !  Marnie 
never  saw  such  capital  games  before ;  and  the 
best  of  it  was,  every  one  joined  in  them,  —  moss 
men  and  women,  wee  moss  children,  even  moss 
grandfathers  and  mothers,  as  gray  as  the  lichens 
from  which  they  came.  Delightful  little  folk 
they  were,  so  lovely  in  face,  so  quaint  in  dress,  so 
blithe  and  brisk  in  spirit,  so  wonderful  and  be- 
witching altogether  that  Marnie  longed  to  call 
her  mother,  but  did  not,  lest  a  word  should 
frighten  them  away. 

Presently  she  caught  the  sound  of  delicate 
noises,  and,  listening  intently,  she  discovered  that 
they  were  talking  of  her. 


56  THE  MOSS  PEOPLE 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  is  n't  this  a  fine  pleasure-ground  for 
us  this  rainy  day ! "  cried  one  merry  moss  boy,  as 
he  paused  to  settle  his  pointed  cap,  after  turning 
somersaults  till  he  looked  like  a  leaf  blown  about 
by  the  wind. 

"  Hush,  Prance,"  whispered  a  pretty  little  moss 
girl,  with  a  wreath  of  coral  in  her  hair,  "  you  will 
wake  the  child  if  you  shout  so  loud,  and  then  she 
will  no  longer  see  and  hear  us,  which  would  be 
a  pity ;  for  we  amuse  her,  as  one  may  guess  by 
the  smile  on  her  face." 

Now  that  surprised  Marnie  very  much,  for  she 
was  sure  she  was  wide  awake,  and  would  have 
said  so,  if  she  had  not  remembered  that  it  was 
not  pohte  to  contradict. 

"  What  shall  we  do  to  thank  this  child  for 
making  us  a  pretty  garden  ? "  said  Prance,  skip- 
ping because  he  could  n't  keep  still. 

"  Let  us  put  her  baby-house  in  order,"  answered 
little  Trip,  who  was  a  tidy  body. 

"  So  we  will,  and  play  in  it  afterward,"  cried  all 
the  moss  children,  whisking  away  to  the  corner 
of  the  nursery  where  Mamie's  toys  were  tumb- 
ling about.  Such  busy,  helpful  little  people  as 
they  were!  and  such  wonders  as  they  worked 
with  their  fairy  fingers !  Marnie  forgot  to  be 
ashamed  of  the  disorderly  baby-house  in  her  de- 
light at  the  change  they  soon  wrought. 


THE  MOSS  PEOPLE  57 

The  boys  mended  broken  chairs  and  tables, 
pots  and  pans,  trundled  the  small  furniture  to 
its  proper  place,  and  attended  to  the  wooden 
cows  and  horses  in  the  topsy-turvy  barn.  The 
little  maids  swept  and  dusted,  put  the  doll's 
clothes  in  order,  ran  about  the  kitchen,  wash- 
ing cups  and  dishes,  or  rubbed  up  the  mirrors 
in  the  drawing  room,  which  was  a  very  fine 
apartment.  Yes,  indeed  !  for  the  curtains  were 
of  red  damask,  the  sofa  had  real  pillows,  a  tiny 
piano  tinkled  its  six  notes,  and  the  centre-table 
held  a  vase  of  elegant  wax-flowers,  not  to  men- 
tion that  there  was  a  grate,  gilt  clock,  two  fine 
candlesticks,  and  portraits  of  all  the  dolls  painted 
by  mamma. 

"  There  ! "  said  Prance,  when  not  a  speck  of  dust 
remained,  "  now  things  look  as  they  should,  and 
I  hope  Miss  Mamie  will  take  the  hint  and  keep 
her  house  tidy.     Now  what  shall  we  play  ?  " 

"  I  've  been  thinking  this  would  be  a  nice 
chance  to  try  living  like  real  people,  as  we  have 
often  wanted  to.  Let  some  be  servants,  some  fine 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  all  do  as  much  like 
these  persons  in  the  house  as  we  can." 

As  Trip  spoke,  all  the  moss  children  clapped 
their  hands  and  skipped  about,  crying,  — 

"We  will!  we  will!" 


58  THE  MOSS  PEOPLE 

The  dear  little  sprites  had  no  idea  that  servants 
were  not  as  nice  parts  to  play  as  master  and  mis- 
tress ;  so  one  was  Byelow  the  nurse,  and  put  on 
a  cap  and  shawl,  and  took  some  very  young  moss 
folk  into  the  doll's  nursery  to  play  be  the  fine 
people's  children.  Another  was  cook,  and  clat- 
tered the  pans  about  in  the  kitchen  with  a  big 
apron  on,  and  her  little  dress  pinned  up.  A  third 
was  Dimity  the  maid,  very  smart  indeed,  and  full 
of  airs.  A  stoutish  moss  boy  was  coachman,  and 
began  to  rub  down  the  painted  horses  and  furbish 
up  the  little  carriages  in  the  stable,  while  another 
with  plump  legs  put  powder  on  his  head  and 
played  footman. 

Prance  and  Trip  took  the  hardest  parts  of  all, 
for  they  said  they  would  be  master  and  mistress. 
There  was  no  trouble  about  clothes,  for  some 
fashion-books  lay  on  the  table,  and  these  queer 
little  things  only  had  to  choose  what  costume 
they  would  have,  when,  lo  and  behold !  there  it 
was  all  made  and  on.  Marnie  did  n't  think  them 
half  so  pretty  in  the  fashionable  finery  as  in  their 
own  simple  green  suits,  and  she  laughed  heartily 
at  the  funny  mistakes  they  made  in  getting  their 
furbelows  and  feathers  properly  arranged.  Poor 
Prance  quite  gasped  in  his  little  broadcloth  suit 
as  he  put  on  a  tiny  beaver,  smoothed  his  gloves, 


THE  MOSS  PEOPLE  59 

and  shouldered  a  doll's  umbrella,  saying  so  like 
Mamie's  papa  that  she  quite  started: 

"  Mrs.  Prance,  I  wish  to  dine  at  three ;  don't 
be  behind  hand." 

"  Yes,  dear,"  meekly  answered  Trip,  who  had 
whisked  into  an  elegant  morning-dress  and  cap, 
and  nodded  from  the  window  as  Mr.  Prance  went 
by  to  his  office. 

"  What  will  you  have  for  dinner,  ma'am  ? " 
asked  Skillet  the  cook,  popping  her  head  into  the 
parlor  where  madam  was  playing  read  a  novel  on 
the  sofa. 

"  Mercy  on  us  !  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know ; ' '  and 
little  Mrs.  Prance  ran  down  to  see  what  there 
was  in  the  pantry. 

Mr.  Prance  was  evidently  not  a  good  provider ; 
for  all  she  could  find  was  a  pea  which  came  out 
of  one  of  the  boats,  some  jelly,  sugar,  milk,  and 
cake  which  Mamie  had  been  playing  with,  and  a 
whole  dinner  in  wood,  painted  brilliantly  and 
stuck  on  to  the  dishes. 

"  It 's  a  rainy  day,  and  no  one  is  likely  to  come 
to  dinner,  so  we  will  have  a  pease  pudding  with 
jelly,  and  warm  up  these  dishes,  for  everything 
is  very  high,  —  we  must  economize,"  said  Mrs. 
Prance,  shaking  her  head,  just  as  mamma  often 
did  when  she  visited  the  kitchen. 


60  THE   MOSS   PEOPLE 

"  Very  well,  ma'am,"  returned  Skillet,  retiring 
into  the  closet  to  eat  cake  and  jelly,  and  drink 
the  milk  as  soon  as  her  mistress  left  the  room. 

"  It 's  time  to  dress,  I  suppose,  for  some  one 
may  call.  Get  out  my  blue  silk  and  lace  head- 
dress, Dimity,"  said  Airs.  Prance  going  up  to  her 
chamber,  too  busy  about  her  toilet  to  mind  the 
baby,  who  was  crying  in  the  nursery. 

"  Lace  me  tightly.  I  'm  growing  stout,  I  do 
believe,  and  my  figure  will  be  ruined  if  I  allow 
it,"  said  madam ;  and  Dimity  squeezed  her  into 
such  a  tight  dress  that  Trip  got  a  pain  in  her 
side  directly.  "  I  can  bear  it  a  little  while,  but  I 
don't  see  how  ladies  can  do  it  all  the  time,  —  it 's 
dreadful ! "  she  sighed,  as  Dimity  piled  her  pretty 
hair  in  a  fuzzy  bunch  on  the  top  of  her  head,  and 
hung  jewels  in  her  little  ears,  after  putting  costly 
bits  of  lace  here  and  there,  and  poking  her  tiny 
feet  into  high-heeled  boots  that  made  her  totter 
when  she  tried  to  walk.  These  and  her  train 
nearly  tripped  her  up,  for,  if  Dimity  had  not 
caught  her,  Mrs.  Prance  would  have  tumbled 
downstairs. 

Hardly  was  she  safe  in  the  parlor  when  the 
bell  rang,  and  Buttons  showed  in  several  very 
fashionable  ladies,  who  sat  down  and  began  to 
talk   about  dress,   servants,  gentlemen,  and   the 


THE  MOSS  PEOPLE  61 

opera,  so  exactly  like  some  of  mamma's  callers 
that  Marnie  wondered  where  the  sly  little  moss 
people  could  have  been  hidden  to  know  how  to 
imitate  them  so  well.  As  soon  as  one  lady  left, 
all  the  rest  said  sharp  things  about  her ;  and 
when  they  got  out,  after  saying  good-by  most 
tenderly,  they  all  abused  Mrs.  Prance,  who  said 
to  herself  when  alone : 

"Tiresome,  ill-natured  creatures,  I  can't  bear 
any  of  them ;  but  I  must  return  their  calls  as  soon 
as  my  new  bonnet  comes  from  Paris." 

By  the  time  the  last  gossip  was  gone,  it  was 
past  two,  and  Mrs.  Prance  was  dying  for  her 
dinner,  being  quite  exhausted.  Imagine  her  dis- 
may when  her  husband  arrived  with  two  gentle- 
men to  dine.  She  clasped  her  hands  and  flew 
into  the  kitchen,  where  she  found  Skillet  fuming 
over  the  little  stove,  and  scolding  because  it 
wasn't  a  range  like  the  one  she  used  in  her 
last  place.  Everything  was  in  confusion,  and  the 
prospect  of  dinner  a  gloomy  one. 

"We  must  have  soup,"  cried  distracted  Mrs. 
Prance. 

"  No  meat  to  make  it  of,  ma'am,"  said  Skillet, 
crossly. 

"  Boil  two  or  three  of  these  caraway-seeds  in  a 
pot  of  hot  water,  pepper  it  well,  and  add  the  leg 


62  THE  MOSS  PEOPLE 

of  that  fly  to  give  it  a  relish,  then  call  it  by 
some  French  name,  and  it  will  be  all  right," 
returned  Mrs.  Prance,  who  was  suddenly  inspired 
by  this  bright  thought.  "Dissolve  some  of  the 
jelly  for  wine,  and  send  up  those  nuts  and  raisins 
for  dessert.  Do  your  best,  Skillet,  and  don't  keep 
us  waiting." 

"  I  'd  like  to  give  you  a  week's  warning,  ma'am, 
the  place  don't  suit  me,"  said  the  red-faced  cook, 
with  her  arms  akimbo. 

"  Don't  be  impertinent.  Skillet !  You  can  go  to- 
morrow, if  you  wish,  but  till  then  behave  your- 
self," and  Mrs.  Prance  retired  with  dignity. 

Dressing  her  tired  countenance  in  smiles,  she 
went  to  welcome  her  undesired  guests,  and  thank 
them  for  "  this  unexpected  pleasure."  Mr.  William 
Wisp  and  Mr.  Eobin  Goodfellow  were  two  very 
elegant  little  gentlemen,  with  ruffled  shirt-fronts, 
eye-glasses,  and  curled-up  mustaches,  quite  splen- 
did to  behold.  They  chatted  with  their  host  and 
hostess  in  the  most  affable  manner,  affecting  not 
to  see  that  Mr.  Prance's  face  grew  more  and  more 
stern  every  minute,  and  that  poor  Mrs.  Prance 
cast  despairing  glances  at  the  clock,  which  plainly 
said  "  half -past  three." 

It  really  was  becoming  awkward,  when  But- 
tons announced,  "  Dinner,  ma'am,"  and  the  cloud 


THE  MOSS  PEOPLE  63 

lifted  suddenly  from  the  faces  of  all.  Skillet  had 
done  her  best,  fearing  she  would  n't  get  her  wages 
if  she  did  n't ;  and  the  first  course  did  very  well. 

Greasy  warm  water,  flavored  with  pepper,  was 
so  like  a  French  soup  no  one  knew  the  difference, 
and  everybody  took  a  few  sips  and  pretended  to 
like  it ;  but  to  airy  creatures,  fed  on  sun  and  dew, 
it  was  n't  nice,  of  course.  There  was  no  fish,  for 
the  tin  ones  melted  in  the  frying-pan ;  and  there 
was  no  time  to  get  any  more.  The  wooden  leg  of 
mutton  got  burnt  in  the  oven,  and  the  painted 
vegetables  were  not  very  satisfactory,  though  they 
looked  quite  fine.  Mr,  Prance  frowned  as  he 
chipped  away  at  the  meat,  and  Mrs.  Prance  wanted 
to  sob  behind  her  napkin  as  he  gave  her  a  black 
look,  saying  sternly : 

"  Mrs.  P.,  your  cook  is  unbearable.  I  desire  that 
you  will  dismiss  her  at  once." 

'•'  I  have,  my  dear,"  meekly  answered  his  wife ; 
and  then  good-natured  Mr.  Wisp  struck  in  with  a 
droll  anecdote,  while  every  one  pecked  at  the 
painted  feast,  and  was  glad  when  the  pudding 
came. 

Here  was  another  blow ;  for  instead  of  leaving 
the  pea  in  its  skin,  and  sending  it  up  a  nice,  round 
little  pudding.  Skillet  had  taken  the  skin  off  as  if 
it  was  the  cloth  it  was  boiled  in,  and  nothing  re- 


64  THE  MOSS  PEOPLE 

mained  but  a  mealy  ruin.  Mrs.  Prance  groaned, 
and  then  coughed  to  hide  the  sound  of  woe,  and 
served  out  her  dish  with  the  calmness  of  despair. 
The  jelly  did  n't  go  round,  the  cook  had  eaten  so 
much  on  the  sly ;  and  when  the  wine  came,  Mr. 
Prance  looked  disgusted,  it  was  so  weak.  How- 
ever, the  nuts  and  raisins  were  all  right ;  and  after 
one  sip  of  currant-water,  in  answer  to  the  gentle- 
men when  they  drank  her  health,  unhappy  Mrs. 
Prance  left  the  table,  wishing  that  she  never  had 
been  born. 

Trip  was  a  clever  little  sprite,  and  entered  into 
the  spirit  of  her  part  so  heartily  that  she  really 
dropped  a  tear  or  two  as  she  sat  alone  in  her  fine 
drawing-room.  Presently  the  gentlemen  came  to 
say  good-by,  for  they  were  going  to  try  Prance's 
horses.  Tired  Mrs.  Prance  wished  her  husband 
would  ask  her  to  join  them,  —  a  drive  would  be 
so  refreshing;  but  he  only  nodded  grimly,  and 
went  away  without  a  word.  Mrs.  Prance  imme- 
diately took  to  her  bed,  for  she  was  to  have  a 
party  in  the  evening,  and  feared  she  never  would 
live  through  it  if  she  did  n't  rest. 

But  very  little  repose  did  the  poor  lady  get  that 
afternoon,  for  the  children  acted  as  if  possessed. 
Plibberty-Gibbet  fell  off  his  rocking-horse  and 
broke  the  bridge  of  his  nose.     Midget  set  her  lit- 


THE  MOSS  PEOPLE  65 

tie  dress  a-fire  and  frightened  every  one  out  of 
their  wits.  Poppet  ran  out  of  the  back  gate,  and 
was  lost  for  a  whole  hour ;  while  Weewee,  the 
baby,  had  a  fit,  owing  to  Mrs.  Byelow's  giving 
him  a  pickle  when  he  cried  for  it.  If  poor,  dear 
Mrs.  Prance  was  hustled  off  her  bed  once  that  af- 
ternoon, she  was  a  dozen  times,  and  at  last  gave 
it  up  entirely,  whipped  the  children  all  round, 
scolded  every  servant  in  the  house,  had  a  good  cry 
and  a  strong  cup  of  tea,  and  felt  better. 

The  gentlemen,  meantime,  had  each  lighted  a 
tiny  cigarette,  made  from  one  stolen  from  papa's 
box,  and  had  driven  off  in  great  style.  Mr. 
Prance  had  the  tin  gig  with  Silver-gray  for  a  horse ; 
Mr.  "Wisp  took  the  straw  chaise  and  yellow  Bill 
harnessed  with  red ;  Mr.  Goodfellow  chose  the 
smart  dog-cart  with  the  creaking  wheels,  and 
black  Jerry,  who  had  lost  his  tail,  but  was  a  fine 
beast  nevertheless.  With  their  hats  on  one  side, 
and  puffing  their  cigars,  the  little  gentlemen  drove 
gayly  round  the  squares  in  the  carpet,  till  Prance 
proposed  a  race  from  one  end  of  a  long  seam  to 
the  other. 

Away  they  went,  with  much  cracking  of  whips, 
and  crying  out,  "  Hi,  yar  !  "  looking  like  three  dis- 
tracted bugs  skimming  along  at  a  great  rate. 
Prance  would  have  certainly  won,  if,  just  as  he 
6 


66  THE  MOSS  PEOPLE 

passed  Mr.  Wisp,  the  wheel  of  the  gig  had  not 
run  against  a  big  knot  in  the  seam,  which  upset 
Mr.  Prance  right  in  the  way  of  Mr.  Wisp,  whose 
straw  chaise  turned  over  them  all  like  an  extin- 
guisher, leaving  nothing  to  be  seen  but  yellow 
Bill's  legs  sticking  straight  up  in  the  air. 

Mr.  Goodfellow  passed  the  wreck,  but  soon  re- 
turned in  alarm  to  pull  the  wounded  from  the 
ruins.  Prance  was  only  shaken,  but  poor  Mr. 
Wisp  was  so  much  bruised  he  could  not  rise,  and 
when  they  looked  about  for  a  carriage  in  which 
to  get  him  home,  not  one  of  the  three  could  be 
had,  for  two  were  smashed,  and  Jerry  had  gal- 
loped off  with  the  dog-cart,  never  pausing  till  he 
had  reached  the  barn.  With  much  difficulty  they 
lifted  the  groaning  Wisp  on  to  a  visiting-card, 
which  fortunately  lay  on  the  floor,  and  bore  him 
away  to  the  residence  of  Mr.  Prance. 

The  house  had  just  subsided  after  the  baby's  fit, 
when  this  arrival  set  it  all  in  confusion  again. 
Wisp  was  put  into  the  best  bed,  where,  after  a 
drop  of  arnica  had  been  applied  to  his  bruises,  and 
a  doll's  smelling-bottle  of  hot  water  to  his  feet,  he 
groaned  himself  to  sleep. 

Leaving  his  friend  Kobin  to  take  care  of  him, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Prance  snatched  a  hasty  cup  of  tea, 
and  hurried  to  dress  for  their  party. 


THE  MOSS  PEOPLE  67 

Mr.  Prance,  I  regret  to  say,  was  in  a  bad  humor, 
for  his  dinner  distressed  him,  his  broken  carriages 
annoyed  him,  and  he  did  n't  feel  at  all  like  seeing 
company.  He  pulled  the  bell  down  ringing  for 
hot  water,  told  the  footman  he  was  a  "  blockhead  " 
because  his  boots  were  not  blacked  to  his  mind, 
and  asked  his  wife  "  why  the  dickens  the  buttons 
were  always  off  his  shirts  ? " 

Mrs.  Prance  was  likewise  out  of  sorts,  and 
nothing  went  well.  The  new  pink  lace  dress  was 
not  becoming.  Dimity  did  n't  dress  her  hair  well, 
and  she  looked  so  pale  and  nervous  that  she  was 
quite  discouraged. 

When  master  and  mistress  met  at  last  in  the 
lighted  drawing-room,  two  crosser  little  faces  were 
seldom  seen.  Trip  threw  herself  into  an  armchair 
with  a  sigh,  and  put  on  her  gloves  in  silence. 
Prance,  who  was  a  waggish  moss  boy,  marched 
solemnly  up  and  down  the  room  with  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  and  an  air  of  offended  dignity  that 
made  Mamie  shake  with  laughter. 

"  Mrs.  Prance,  you  gave  us  a  very  bad  dinner 
today,  and  I  was  much  mortified.  If  you  can't 
manage  better,  madam,  I  shall  give  up  house- 
keeping." 

"I  sincerely  wish  you  would,  my  dear, for  what 
with  servants,  and  children,  and  company,  I  am 


68  THE  MOSS  PEOPLE 

nearly  worn  out,"  and  Mrs.  Prance  sobbed  behind 
her  lace  handkerchief. 

"  I  thought  when  I  married  you  that  you  were 
able  to  look  after  things  properly,"  said  Mr. 
Prance,  still  marching  up  and  down  with  a  frown 
on  his  face. 

"  I  never  was  taught  to  do  anything  but  look 
pretty,"  sighed  Mrs.  Prance. 

"  Don't  be  a  goose,  my  dear." 

"  You  used  to  call  me  an  angel." 

Here  the  bell  rang.  Mr.  Prance  took  his  hands 
out  of  his  pockets,  Mrs.  Prance  dried  her  tears, 
and  both  looked  quite  gay  and  beaming  when  the 
guests  appeared. 

Such  dashing  little  beaux  and  belles  as  did  ar- 
rive, dressed  in  the  most  astonishing  style,  —  the 
ladies  with  bits  of  bouquets  and  fans,  satin  slip- 
pers, and  trailing  skirts.  The  gentlemen  had 
stiff  collars,  gay  ties,  wee  boots  and  gloves,  and 
twirled  their  eyeglasses  as  if  they  had  been  going 
to  parties  all  their  lives.  Every  one  simpered 
and  chatted,  laughed  and  flirted,  looked  at  each 
other's  clothes,  and  whispered  gossip  round  the 
room.  Then  a  band  of  moss  people,  led  by  the 
green  huntsman's  horn,  struck  up  the  blithest 
dancing  tune  ever  heard,  and  the  little  company 
began  to  spin  round  in  couples  like  a  party  of  tee- 


THE  MOSS  PEOPLE  69 

totums.  It  was  not  the  airy,  graceful  gambols 
Mamie  had  admired  in  her  fairy-land,  but  it  was 
the  fashionable  step,  and  therefore  must  be  ele- 
gant. There  seemed  to  be  a  good  deal  of  romping, 
and  the  gentlemen  twisted  the  ladies  about  till 
they  looked  quite  flushed. 

They  kept  up  the  dancing  as  hard  as  they 
could  till  supper- time,  when  every  one  ate  as  if 
exhausted.  Where  the  supper  came  from,  Marnie 
did  n't  know ;  but  there  it  was  —  ice,  salad,  cake, 
coffee,  oysters,  and  wine,  all  complete,  and  the 
company  made  themselves  uncomfortable  eating 
all  sorts  of  stuff  at  that  late  hour.  After  supper, 
several  of  the  young  ladies  sang,  opening  their 
mouths  very  wide,  and  screaming  small  screams 
without  any  music  in  them,  while  the  little  piano 
tottered  under  the  banging  it  received.  Then 
Misses  Moth,  Cobweb,  and  Peaseblossom  gave  an 
air  from  the  famous  opera  of  "  Oberon,"  and  every 
one  said,  "  How  sweet ! "  as  they  patted  their 
gloves  together  and  tried  to  look  as  if  they  knew 
all  about  it. 

After  a  good  deal  of  noise,  there  was  dancing 
again,  and  Marnie  observed  that  the  company  got 
more  and  more  excited.  Some  of  the  gentlemen 
were  very  silly,  but  the  ladies  did  not  seem  to 
mind  it.    Poor  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Prance  were  so  tired 


70  THE  MOSS  PEOPLE 

they  could  hardly  keep  their  eyes  open,  and  when 
at  last  their  guests  began  to  go  they  could  scarcely 
hide  their  joy. 

"  Such  a  charming  party  ! "  "  Had  a  most  de- 
lightful time !  "  said  the  people,  bidding  them 
good-night ;  and  then  added  as  soon  as  the  door 
was  shut :  "  Was  n't  it  a  miserable  affair  ?  " 
"  Those  Prances  are  very  ordinary  people,  and  I 
shall  not  go  again,"  —  quite  in  the  regular  way. 

I  'm  sorry  to  say  that  Mr.  Prance  was  one  of 
those  who  had  taken  too  much  wine ;  and  when 
Mrs.  Prance  fell  into  a  chair  exhausted,  he  sat 
down  upon  the  fender  and  began  to  sing : 

"  Where  the  bee  sucks,  there  suck  I," 

in  a  sleepy  voice,  nodding  like  an  owl. 

This  was  very  trying  to  Mrs.  Prance's  feelings, 
she  lost  her  temper,  and  scolded  him  as  well  as 
she  knew  how.  Marnie  was  quite  frightened  to 
hear  the  lecture  she  gave  her  naughty  husband, 
who  sat  smiling  and  blinking  till  his  little  coat- 
tails  took  fire.  The  instant  a  bright  blaze  shot 
up  behind  him  as  he  skipped  off  the  fender,  Mrs. 
Prance  stopped  scolding,  and  ran  to  put  the  fire 
out  like  a  devoted  little  wife.  But,  oh !  sad  to 
tell,  her  dress  caught,  and  in  a  minute  two  blazes 
flew  about  the  room  like  a  pair  of  lively  Will-o'- 


THE  MOSS  PEOPLE  71 

the-wisps.  Every  one  screamed  and  ran,  men 
and  maids,  Mr.  Goodfellow  and  his  patient,  the 
children  tumbled  out  of  bed,  and  came  scamper- 
ing downstairs,  andWeewee  roared  in  his  cradle 
as  loud  as  if  he  tried  to  call  "  Fire  !  Fire  ! " 

Marnie  was  so  frightened  at  the  idea  of  those 
cunning,  tricksy  imps  being  burnt  up,  that  she 
screamed  also  with  all  her  might,  and  in  a  minute 
every  sign  of  the  moss  people  vanished.  She 
rubbed  her  eyes,  but  all  was  quiet,  —  nothing 
stirred  in  fairy-land ;  the  doll's  house  was  topsy- 
turvy as  before,  and  all  she  saw  were  hundreds  of 
motes  dancing  in  the  sunshine  that  now  shone 
brightly  on  her  face.  Marnie  was  so  sorry  to  lose 
her  new  playmates,  that  she  would  have  cried 
about  it  if  mamma  had  not  waked  up  just  then 
and  asked  what  was  the  matter.  When  Marnie 
had  told  her  all  about  it,  she  laughed  at  the  funny 
dream,  and  then  looked  sober,  as  she  said,  with  a 
kiss : 

"  If  these  sly  rogues  are  going  to  come  and 
imitate  us  to  amuse  our  little  children,  we  must 
be  careful  what  we  do  that  we  may  set  them  a 
good  example." 

"  You  and  papa  are  not  so  bad  as  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Prance,  though  you  do  some  of  the  things  they 
did.     But  the  droll  little  moss  boys  and  girls  set 


72  THE  MOSS  PEOPLE 

me  a  good  example  in  one  way,  and  I  'm  going  to 
show  them  that  I  don't  forget  it,"  said  Mamie, 
beginning  to  put  her  playthings  in  order. 

"  So  am  I,"  added  mamma,  laughing  again  as 
she  put  away  her  novel  and  took  up  her  sewing, 
thinking  to  herself  that  she  really  would  attend 
more  to  the  comfort  of  home,  and  not  care  so 
much  for  fashionable  society. 

So  you  see  some  good  was  done  after  all  by  the 
merry  little  phantoms  of  a  dream,  for  Mamie  and 
mamma  did  not  forget  the  moss  people. 


New  Illustrated  Edition  of 
The  Spinning-Wheel  Series 


THE    SPINNING-WHEEL   SERIES 

By  Louisa  M.  Alcott.  New  Illustrated  Edition.  Uniform  in 
size  with  the  Illustrated  Edition  of  The  Little  Women  Series, 
printed  from  entirely  new  plates,  with  new  and  attractive  cover 
design.    4  vols.    i2mo.    Decorated  cloth,  in  box,  $6.00.    Separately, 

$1.50. 

1.  SPINNING-WHEEL   STORIES 

With  8  full-page  pictures  and  vignette  on  titlepage  by  Wm.  A. 
McCuUough.   '^1.50. 

2.  SILVER    PITCHERS 

With  8  full-page  pictures  and  vignette  on  titlepage  by  J.  W.  F.  Kennedy. 

$1.50. 

3.  PROVERB  STORIES 

With  8  full-page  pictures  and  vignette  on  titlepage  by  Ethel  Pennewill 
Brown.     $1.50- 

4.  A    GARLAND    FOR    GIRLS 

With  8  full-page  pictures  and  vignette  on  titlepage  by  Clara  E 
Atwood  and  other  artists.     $1.50. 

FOUR  volumes  of  healthy  and  hearty  stories  so  told  as  to 
fascinate  the  young  people,  while  inculcating  sturdy  courage 
and  kindness  to  the  weak  in  the  boys,  and  in  the  girls  those  virtues 
which  fit  them  for  filling  a  woman's  place  in  the  home.  The  several 
artists  have  caught  the  spirit  of  the  author  and  have  provided  capital 
illustrations  for  these  new  editions. 

It  is  not  rash  to  say  that  Miss  Alcott's  stories  were  never  more 
appealing  to  young  readers  than  at  the  present  moment.  In  spite 
of  a  profusion  of  juvenile  fiction,  they  have  steadily  held  their  own  ; 
and  they  persistently  refuse,  through  their  inherent  merits,  to  be 
elbowed  aside  by  pretentious  modern  stories  of  unnatural  and  unreal 
childhood  life.  The  very  genuineness  of  character  and  incident, 
the  homely  appeal  to  all  that  is  best  in  young  womanhood  and 
young  manhood,  have  made  ''Little  Men,"  ''Little  Women," 
and  their  successors  classics  in  their  kind. —  Boston  Transcript. 

LITTLE,    BROWN,   &   COMPANY 

Publisher;,  34  BEACON   STREET,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


New  Illustrated  Editions  of 
Miss  Alcott's  Famous  Stories 

THE  LITTLE  WOMEN  SERIES 

By  Louisa  M.  Alcott.  Illustrated  Edition.  With  eighty-four 
full-page  plates  from  drawings  especially  made  for  this  edition  by 
Reginald  B.  Birch,  Alice  Barber  Stephens,  Jessie  Willcox  Smith, 
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cloth,  gilt,  in  box,  $16.00. 

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1.  LITTLE  MEN  :  Life  at  Plumfield  with  Jo's  Boys 

With  15  full-page  illustrations  by  Reginald  B.  Birch.     $2.00. 

2.  LITTLE  WOMEN  :  or  Meg,  Jo,  Beth,  and  Amy 

With  15  full-page  illustrations  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens.    $2.00. 

3.  AN  OLD-FASHIONED  GIRL 

With  12  full-page  pictures  by  Jessie  Willcox  Smith.     $2.00. 

4.  JO'S  BOYS,  and  How  They  Turned  Out 

A  Sequel  to  "  Little  Men."  With  10  full-page  plates  by  Ellen  Wetherald 
Ahrens.     $2.00. 

5.  EIGHT  COUSINS;  or,  the  Aunt-Hill 

With  8  full-page  pictures  by  Harriet  Roosevelt  Richards. 

6.  ROSE  IN  BLOOM 

A  Sequel  to  "Eight  Cousins."  With  8  full-page  pictures  by  Harriet 
Roosevelt  Richards,     f  2.00. 

7.  UNDER  THE  LILACS 

With  8  original  full-page  pictures  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens.    $2.00. 

8.  JACK  AND  JILL 

With  8  full-page  pictures  from  drawings  by  Harriet  Roosevelt  Richards. 

$2.00. 

The  artists  selected  to  illustrate  have  caught  the  spirit  cf  the  orio;inals  and  contributed  a 

series  of  strikingly  beautiful  aud  faithful  pictures  of  the  author's  characters  and  scenes. — 

BoUon  Herald. 

Alice  Barber  Stephens,  who  is  very  near  the  head  of  American  illustrators,  has  shown 

wonderful  ability  in  delineating  the  characters  and  costumes  for  "Little  Women."     They  are 

almost  startlingly  realistic.  —  Worcester  Spy. 

Miss  Alcott's  books  have  never  before  had  such  an  attractive  typographical  dress  as  the 

present.     'I'hey  are  printed  in  large  type  on  heavy  paper,  artistically  bound,  and  illustrated 

with  many  full-page  drawings.  —  Philadelphia  Press. 

LITTLE,    BROWN,   G?   COMPANY 

Puklishers,   34  BEACON    STREET,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


Susan  Coolidge's  Story  Books 


STORIES  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE.  Fully  Illus- 
trated. 12  vols.  i2mo.  Uniformly  bound,  in  box,  ^15.00. 
Separately,  ^1.25  each,  as  follows: 

1.  THE    NEW    YEAR'S    BARGAIN.     A  Christmas  Story  for 

Children. 

2.  MISCHIEF'S   THANKSGIVING,  and  Other  Stories. 

3.  NINE   LITTLE   GOSLINGS. 

4.  EYEBRIGHT.     A  Story. 

5.  CROSS   PATCH,  and  Other  Stories.    Adapted  from  the  Myths 

of  Mother  Goose. 

6.  A    ROUND   DOZEN. 

7.  A    LITTLE    COUNTRY   GIRL. 

8.  JUST   SIXTEEN. 

9.  A    GUERNSEY    LILY;    or,  How  the  Feud  was  Healed.     A 

Story  of  the  Channel  Islands. 

10.  THE    BARBERRY    BUSH,  and  Eight  Other   Stories  about 

Girls  for  Girls. 

11.  NOT   QUITE   EIGHTEEN. 

12.  A   SHEAF   OF   STORIES. 

Not  even  Miss  Alcott  appreliends  child  nature  with  finer  sympathy,  or  pictures  its  nobler 
traits  with  more  skill.  —  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

THE  KATY  DID  SERIES.  Illustrated.  5  vols.  i2mo. 
Uniformly  bound,  in  box,  ^6.25.  Separately,  $1.25  each,  as 
follows : 

1.  WHAT    KATY   DID.     A  Story. 

2.  WHAT  KATY  DID  AT  SCHOOL.     Being  more  about  "  What 

Katy  Did." 

3.  WHAT   KATY   DID   NEXT. 

4.  CLOVER. 

5.  IN   THE   HIGH   VALLEY. 

Susan  Coolidge  has  always  possessed  the  affection  of  her  young  readers,  for  it  seems  as  if 
she  had  ihe  happy  instinct  of  planning  stories  that  each  girl  would  like  to  act  out  in  reality. 
—  The  Critic. 


LITTLE,    BROWN,   &   COMPANY 

Publishers,   34   BEACON    STREET,   BOSTON,   MASS. 


Stories  of  War»  the  Sea»  Adventure^ 
Discovery^  and  Inventions 

Collected  and  Edited  by 

EDWARD    EVERETT   HALE 

Author  of  ''The  Man  Without  a  Country/*  etc. 

Stories  of  War*     Told  by  Soldiers.    i6mo.    Cloth.    $i.oo. 

These  stories  of  great  battles  of  the  Civil  War  told  by  soldiers  in- 
clude Bull  Run,  Forts  Henry  and  Donelson,  the  Peninsula  Campaign, 
Antietam,  Pittsburg  Landing,  Vicksburg,  Gettysburg,  Chicamauga, 
Chattanooga,  the  Wilderness  Campaign,  Sherman's  March,  and  the 
Siege  of  Richmond. 

Stories  of  the  Sea.   Told  by  Sailors.    i6mo.  Cloth.  $i.oo. 
These  stories  of  great  voyages  told  by  sailors  include  Columbus' 
return,  the  Spanish  Armada,  the  voyages  of  Alexander  Selkirk  and 
Paul  Jones,  Nelson  at  Trafalgar,  and  a  chapter  on  shipwrecks. 

Stories  of  Adventure*    Told  by  Adventurers.   New  edition. 
Illustrated.     i2mo.     Cloth.     ^1.25. 

This  new  edition  contains  vivid  accounts  of  the  adventures  of  Marco 
Polo,  Mandeville,  Cortez,  Coronando,  the  Jesuits,  Humboldt,  etc., 
illustrated  with  valuable  portraits  and  pictures. 

Stories  of  Discovery.    Told  by  Discoverers.    New  edition. 
Illustrated.      i2mo.     Cloth.     ^1.25. 

These  stories  of  great  discoverers  told  by  discoverers  are  now  for 
the  first  time  illustrated.  Included  in  the  book  are  the  discoveries  of 
Columbus,  Da  Gama,  Magalhaens,  Drake,  Verrazzano,  Gilbert,  Gos- 
noll,  John  Smith,  Carteret,  Matavai,  etc.  Describes  the  search  for 
the  North  West  Passage. 

Stories  of  Invention.     Told  by  Inventors.     i6mo.     Cloth. 
Price,  $1.00. 

The  stories  of  great  inventors  told  by  inventors  include  the 
inventions  of  Archimedes,  Friar  Bacon,  Cellini,  Palissy,  Franklin, 
Edgeworth,  Watt,  Fulton,  Stephenson,  Whitney,  Nasmyth,  Bessemer, 
and  Goodyear.  Valuable  hints  are  given  as  to  using  reference  books 
and  doing  original  research. 

LITTLE,    BROWN,   AND    COMPANY,    Publishers 
34  BEACON  STREET,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


ANNA     CHAPIN     RAY'S 

"TEDDY"    STORIES 


Miss  Ray's  work  draws  instant  comparison  with  the  best  of  Miss  Alcott's :  first, 
because  she  has  the  same  genuine  sympathy  with  boy  and  girl  life  ;  secondly, 
because  she  creates  real  characters,  individual  and  natural,  like  the  young  people 
one  knows,  actually  working  out  the  same  kind  of  problems  ;  and,  finally,  because 
her  style  of  writing  is  equally  ur>affected  and  straightforward, — Christian  Register, 
Boston. 

TEDDY:   HER    BOOK.      A  Story  of  Sweet  Sixteen 

Illustrated  by  Vesper  L.  George.     i2mo.     $1.50. 

This  bewitching  story  of  "Sweet  Sixteen,"  with  its  earnestness,  impetuosity, 
merry  pranks,  and  unconscious  love  for  her  hero,  has  the  same  spring-like  charm. — 
Kate  Sanborn. 

PHEBE:    HER    PROFESSION.      A  Sequel  to  "Teddy: 

Her  Book 

Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill.     i2mo.     $1.50. 

This  is  one  of  the  few  books  written  for  young  people  in  which  there  is  to  be 
found  the  same  vigor  and  grace  that  one  demands  in  a  good  story  for  older  people. 
—  Worcester  Spy. 

TEDDY:    HER   DAUGHTER 

A  Sequel  to  "Teddy:  Her  Book,"  and  "Phebe:  Her  Profession" 

Illustrated  by  J.  B.  Graff.     i2mo.     $1.50. 

It  is  a  human  story,  all  the  characters  breathing  life  and  activity. — Buffalo  Times. 

NATHALIE'S    CHUM 

Illustrated  by  Ellen  Bernard  Thompson.     i2mo.     $1.50. 

Nathalie  is  the  sort  of  a  young  girl  whom  other  girls  like  to  read  about. — Hartford 
Courant. 

URSULA'S  FRESHMAN.  A  Sequel  to  "Nathalie's  Chum" 
Illustrated  by  Harriet  Roosevelt  Richards.      i2mo.     $1.50. 
The  best  of  a  series  already  the  best  of  its  kind.  —  Boston  Herald. 

NATHALIE'S   SISTER.      ^  ^^o,M€i  to  "Ursula's  Fresh- 

man 
Illustrated  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens.      i2mo.     $1.50. 
Feggy,  the  heroine,  is  a  most  original  little  lady  who  says  and  does  all  sorts  of 
interesting  things.    She  has  pluck  and  spirit,  and  a  temper,  but  she  is  very  lovable, 
and  girls  will  find  h(:r  deliglitful  to  read  about. — Louisville  Evening  Post. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  ^COMPANY,  Publishers 
34   BEACON   ST.,   BOSTON,   MASSACHUSETTS 


ANNA      CHAPIN      RAY'S 

"SIDNEY"    STORIES 


Having  completed  the  "Teddy"  book=,  which  delighted  and  continue  to  entertain 
thousands  of  readers,  Miss  Ray  in  her  new  "  Sidney  "  books  utilizes  new  scenes  and 
an  entirely  new  set  of  characters. 

Anna  Chapin  Ray  is  to  the  present  generation  of  youthful  readers  what  Louisa  M. 
Alcott  was  to  her  generation.  Her  stories  may  be  commended  for  their  straight- 
forward, simple  style,  their  clean  atmosphere,  and  their  uplifting  influence  on  the 
characters  of  all  who  peruse  them.  —  Boston  Transcript. 

SIDNEY:    HER    SUMMER  ON    THE 
ST.  LAWRENCE 

Illustrated  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens.     l2nio.     $\.^0. 

Sidney  Stavre  is  another  of  this  author's  true,  helpful,  earnest  girl  characters.— 
Denver  Republican. 

JANET:  HER  WINTER  IN  QUEBEC 

Illustrated  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens.     i2mo.     $i  50. 

Gives  a  delightful  picture  of  Canadian  I'fe  and  introduces  a  g'oup  of  young  people 
who  are  bright  and  wholesome  and  good  to  read  about.  — New  Yoik  Globe, 

DAY:    HER   YEAR   IN    NEW   YORK 

Illustrated  by  Harriet  Roosevelt  Richards.     i2mo.     $1.50. 

The  third  volume  of  the  "  Sidney  Books."  in  which  Phyllis,  Sidnev's  younger 
sister,  develops  from  a  well-meaning  blunderer  into  an  affectionate,  tactful  character. 
—  The  Bookman,  New  York. 

SIDNEY  AT   COLLEGE 

Illustrated  by  Harriet  Roosevelt  Richards.     i2mo.     {Ji.JO. 

The  heroine  is  a  freshman  at  Smith  College  and  the  story  reveals  the  social 
pleasures  and  the  sorrows  of  college  life.  — Boston  Transcript. 

JANET  AT   ODDS 

Illustrated  by  Harriet  Roosevelt  Richards.     l2mo.     $1.50. 

The  fifth  "Sidney"  story  tells  how  Janet  conducted  a  boarding  house  for  her 
friends  during  a  summer  in  Quebec. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  £5?  COMPANY,  Publishers 
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Books  by  Katharine  Pyle 


THE  CHRISTMAS  ANGEL 

With  6  full-page  plates  and  14- 
decorative  headings,  etc.,  by 
the  Author.      ]2mo.     |1.25. 

A  CHARMING  story  of  Kris 
Kringle  and  the  Wonder  Coun- 
try whsre  all  the  toys  are  alive.  A 
little  girl  finds  a  door  in  a  tree,  and 
opening  it  with  a  tiny  key,  discovers 
that  it  leads  to  "Toy land."  In  this 
"Wonder-Country"  she  has  many 
adventures. 

A  really  delightful  Christmas 
book,  teeming  with  marvellous  ad- 
ventures.— Tke  Oatlouk. 


AS  THE   GOOSE   FLIES 

Fully  Illustrated  by  the  Author.      12mo.     SI. 25. 

A  pretty  fairy  story  of  a  little  girl  who,  on  the  back  of  a  great 
white  gandar,  visits  Mother  Goose  land  and  fairy  land  and 
talks  and  plays  with  all  her  favorites  there. — Public  Opinion. 

IN   THE   GREEN  FOREST 

Fully  Illustrated  by  the  Author.     Small  4to.      $1.50. 

The  book  is  full  of  pretty,  delicate  fancies,  pleasingly  told, 
with  the  right  spirit  of  fairy  magic  and  mystery. — Philadelphia 
Telegraph. 

NANCY  HUTLEDGE 

With  6  full-page  illustrations  by  the  Author.     12mo. 

$1.25. 

Nancy  is  a  dear  little  maid,  and  the  story  of  how  she  moved 
to  town  and  all  the  things  she  did  there  is  told  with  charm- 
ing simplicity.  —  Chicacjo  Record- Herald. 


Little,  Brown,  &  Co.,  Publishers 

34:  Beacon  Street,  Bostou 


Bright,  Lively,  and  Enjoyable 

"JOLLY  GOOD  TIMES" 
SERIES 

By  MARY  P.    WELLS  SMITH 


1.  Jolly  Good  Times  ;  or,         5.  Jolly  Good  Times  To-Day 

Child  Life  on  a  Farm  6.  A  Jolly  Good  Summer 

2.  Jolly  Good  Times  at  School  T.  The  Browns 

3.  Jolly  Good  Times  at  Hack-  8.  Their  Canoe  Trip 


MATACK 


4.  More  Good  Times  at  Hack-       lUustrated.  Cloth. 

MATACK  $1.25  each 

THESE  books  ("Jolly  Good  Times,"  etc.)  give  the  best 
possible  picture  of  New  England  child  life  about 
seventy-five  years  ago. —  Miss  Hunt,  Supt.  Children's  Dept. 
Brooklyn  Public  Library. 

Allow  me  to  express,  unasked,  the  zest  and  satisfaction 
with  which  I  read  "Jolly  Good  Times."  I  am  delighted 
that  the  joyous  country  life  of  New  England  is  painted  in 
its  true  colors  for  children. —  CoL.  Thomas  Wentworth 
Higginson. 

There  is  a  fine  fresh  flavor  of  country  life  in  what  Mrs. 
Smith  writes,  and  her  characters,  particularly  her  chil- 
dren, are  thoroughly  real  and  human. —  R.  H.  Stoddard  in 
New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

A  bit  of  real  literature  is  "  Jolly  Good  Times  at  Hack- 
matack." It  has  all  the  vividness  of  actual  experience. — 
New  York  Tribune. 


LITTLE,   BROWN,   &  CO.,  Publishers 

34  BEACON  STREET,   BOSTON 


ii 

II 

■ 

III' 

